Advance to the Rear (Strike Force Book 3) Read online

  She smiled at him over the rim of the cup.

  “I think that’s probably a very good idea. But since we’ll probably need all our strength, how about we run up to the store and get some of those sweet rolls Slade said they were famous for?”

  “You go ahead. I’m going to take a quick shower then see what I can pull together for breakfast to go with the rolls.” He winked. “Speaking of needing strength.”

  She widened her eyes. “And you cook, too? I think I hit the jackpot here.”

  He slid his fingers through her hair and turned her face toward him. “You have no idea.”

  Then he proceeded to kiss the life out of her, lightly running his tongue over her lips before thrusting it into her mouth and thoroughly licking the inside. By the time he lifted his mouth from hers, she could hardly remember her own name. Then he gave her a gentle swat on her butt.

  “Better go get those rolls. Don’t want to waste any time.”

  “Rolls?” She looked at him through a haze. “Time?”

  He laughed, that low, husky sound that made every part of her body do a hula dance.

  “Yes. Hurry, because there’s more where that came from.”

  She watched as he headed toward the bathroom and the shower, mesmerized by the flex of muscles in his very fine ass and the sheer beauty of his sculpted body. Then she kicked herself into gear. Shoving her cell phone in her pocket, she grabbed her purse and keys then headed out of the front door.

  She had just walked around to the driver’s side of the car and was unlocking the door when a strong arm reached around her and a hand closed over her mouth and nose, pinching her nostrils. She tried to scream but no sound would come out. Kicking back was futile. Her attacker was much stronger than she was, and he lifted her from the ground so her feet were flailing. Then something pinched the nerves in her neck and blackness surrounded her.

  * * * *

  Jamal stared at the two men who carried Nikki into their cottage. Her head hung back limply over an arm.

  “I hope you did not do her any damage. We need her to be able to do her work.”

  “Just put her to sleep enough to get her here,” Kasim assured him as he placed the woman in an armchair.

  “You had no trouble getting away with her car? That is our transportation now.”

  “What if the man with her reports it stolen?” Farid stuck out his chin. “What if she does?”

  “The woman will be no problem. Trust me.” Because he’d make sure of that. “And you were supposed to take care of the man, so why are you both here?” He glared at Farid. “One of you was supposed to stay and make sure her boyfriend could not come after us. Can you not follow simple instructions? No wonder we are in this fucking mess.”

  Farid stared back. “We wanted to make sure we got away cleanly. Getting the nurse for my brother was my priority. Now I will go back and take care of the man.”

  “You had better.” Jamal gave a derisive snort. “We cannot afford for one more thing to go wrong. We must get out of here with no problem, and we must be sure Malik is taken care of.”

  “I know that as well as you.”

  “You be very careful,” Jamal warned. “That man did not look like an ordinary citizen. If we are going to have a dead body, I would prefer it not be yours.”

  “As would I. Or my brother’s. Be assured I can take care of this. I am going right now.” He pulled his gun from the small of his back, checked it and returned it to its place. Then, glaring at Jamal, he slipped outside and headed for the other cottage.

  Jamal turned to look at the woman in the chair, who was just coming back to consciousness. She was a little thin for his taste, but he did have a fetish for long blonde hair. Perhaps he could focus on that, find time to enjoy her after she performed the task he needed her for. If Farid managed to succeed in eliminating the woman’s partner, he would have plenty of time to pleasure himself.

  The woman blinked stared at him and opened her mouth as if to scream. In a moment he was in front of the chair, his hand closed around her throat.

  “I would hate to kill you when we need your services so badly. Do not scream, and you have a better chance to live.”

  She stared at him for a long moment, fear flickering in her eyes, but then she nodded and he removed his hand.

  “Better. Much better.”

  “W-What do you want with me?”

  He pointed toward the bedroom where Malik, lying on the bed, was visible. “My friend has a bullet in his leg. I need you to remove it.”

  “Me?” Her jaw dropped. “I’m not a doctor. I’m a nurse. And not a surgical one, either.”

  Jamal shrugged. “A nurse is a nurse. I have seen them in crisis situations find a way to do anything. So you will find a way to do this.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  His smile was anything but humorous. “Then I will be finished with you long before I intended.”

  “My boyfriend—”

  “Will not be a factor. He is being taken care of as we speak.”

  He watched as both fear and anger flitted across her face.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  Jamal shrugged again. “No matter. Either fix my friend or I will shoot you now.”

  Her hands tightened into fists. He wasn’t sure if it was from anger or fear and, truthfully, he didn’t care. Just as long as she got the job done. He watched the play of emotions on her face and knew the exact moment she’d made her choice.

  “Fine. Let me look at your friend and I’ll see what I can do.”

  At that moment a cell phone rang, the sound coming from the pocket of her shorts.

  “That’s my boyfriend.” She pulled out the phone “If I don’t answer, he’ll know something’s wrong.”

  “Something is wrong.” Jamal snapped his fingers. “Give me the phone. Now!”

  She jumped but handed it over. He dropped it on the floor and ground it beneath his heel.

  “There. No more phone problems. Come.”

  She pulled back from him. “When he can’t reach me, he’ll come looking for me.”

  The man’s smile held no humor. “Then he will be very sorry. Now let us look at my friend’s wound.”

  Closing his fingers around her arm, he led her into the bedroom where Malik lay moaning on the bed. She unwrapped the bandage on his leg with gentle care, and the look on her face told him her assessment wouldn’t be good.

  “He needs to be in a hospital. Right now.”

  Jamal shook his head. “Not possible.”

  “But—”

  “Just not possible.” He said the words in a harsh, firm tone. “You have to fix him here. We have bandages and some medicine, but the bullet has to come out.”

  She looked as if she was again ready to argue with him, then gave a short nod. Maybe she figured if she fixed his friend, she could talk her way out of here. Fat chance. He couldn’t leave any loose ends.

  “Okay. Fine. Do you have protective gloves?”

  He pointed to the box on the dresser. “You’ll find what you need in there.”

  She shook her head, then lifted the box and put it on the bed.

  “I need a bowl of hot water, towels and a screwdriver or something like it.”

  He stared at her as if she’d lost her mind.

  “A screwdriver?”

  She looked at him, impatient. “To dig out the bullet. Do you have any liquor?”

  “Liquor? Are you planning to get drunk before you do this?” He yanked his gun from the small of his back. “Perhaps you are not the right person for this after all.”

  She held up her hands. “Please. I’m not stupid. But this is going to hurt your friend, and alcohol will ease that pain.”

  Jamal studied her for a long moment, then put his gun away and nodded to Kasim. “That bottle the idiot gave us will come in handy after all. Get it.”

  “If you show me where things are, I can—”

  “Kasim will get it.”

&n
bsp; It seemed only moments had passed before they were all gathered around the bed, everything the nurse had asked for on the bedside table. The nurse washed Malik’s leg with great care, while Kasim held the man’s head and dribbled alcohol into his mouth. Then, with everything ready, she took the screwdriver and carefully probed the area of the wound.

  At her first touch Malik let out an unholy scream. Kasim gave him more alcohol but it didn’t seem to do much. The deeper she probed, the more he screamed.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Kasim growled.

  “Yes,” she snapped back. “This really should be done under anesthesia.”

  “Since we don’t have that luxury, just get it over with as fast as possible.”

  When Malik’s shouts faded, Jamal realized the man had passed out. Good. Better for him that way.

  “Jamal, you need to call that number in the phones,” Malik whispered. “They cannot just keep us out here like this. We have to get to San Antonio. We have a job to do. One we trained for. We made those…packages…for six months to get them just right. The rodeo starts in just a few days. It is our assignment from Allah. How do we know they even got the right pipes—”

  “Shut up, you fool,” Jamal hissed, clamping his hand over Kasim’s mouth. “You think she can’t hear us?”

  “She’s concentrating on Malik. She won’t know what we’re talking about, anyway. But regardless of this, he needs a doctor. They would just as soon let us die out here. Why does Allah not take care of us, when we are on an errand for his glory?”

  “Did you not hear me say shut up?” Jamal hissed. “I will call when we are done.”

  He glanced at the nurse, who was bent over the injured leg, working the screwdriver into the bullet hole. She seemed to not be paying attention to them or listening to them. Still, Jamal did not want to take chances, although what did it matter? He’d probably have to kill her when this was done.

  The wound was oozing blood, which she periodically stopped to mop with the sterile gauze. Jamal watched her closely, breathing a sigh of relief when at last the bullet popped out into her hand and she dropped it into an ashtray.

  “It’s out,” she told him in a soft voice. “I’ll pack the wound as best I can, but he really needs—”

  “A doctor is not possible. Fix him up the best you can. With the bullet out, he should be much better off.” He glared at her. “At least he’d better be.”

  Her fair skin turned even paler but he had to give her credit. She didn’t flinch. He watched her rinse the wound with alcohol and clean the area around it, then apply the antibiotic ointment and finally wrap a gauze bandage tightly around it. The last thing she did was pick up one of the bed pillows and prop it beneath his leg.

  “You should keep that leg elevated. Slows the bleeding.”

  He nodded, then watched her clean everything up. Killing her would not be a pleasure for him. Thinking of killing reminded him that he had not yet heard the sound of a shot from the other cottage, nor had Farid returned.

  “Where the fuck is Farid?” he asked, verbalizing his thoughts. “How the fucking long does it takes to kill one lone man?”

  “Should I go check?” Kasim asked.

  “No!” Jamal snapped. “No one goes out there and makes themselves a target. Let me think. I need to think.”

  “I’ll just look outside for a minute,” Kasim insisted. “That crappy so-called road curves a little here, so no one can see me.”

  “Be careful. You don’t know what’s going on at that other cottage, or where the fuck Farid is.”

  Kasim pulled aside the curtains over the one window on the far wall, trying to see outside, when a sharp crack! echoed in the air. He dropped the curtains and jumped back.

  “That sound had better be Farid shooting the man from the cottage,” he ground out.

  “What if it’s not? What if the man got the drop on Farid?”

  “I don’t even consider that.” Jamal shook his head. “But if he is not here in one minute, we are getting the fuck out of here.”

  “And what about Malik? And the woman?”

  Jamal felt the burn of his ulcer. “Get everyone into the car. Now. We are running out of time. The rodeo starts in a couple of days and we haven’t even made it to San Antonio yet.”

  The nurse was standing by the bed when Jamal stalked into the room. She opened her mouth to say something when he punched her in the jaw with enough force to knock her out. He caught her as she folded and lifted her in his arms.

  “What are you doing?” Kasim stood in the doorway, a panicked look on his face.

  “Getting the hell out of here. If Farid is still alive, we will pick him up on the way out. If he’s dead, we need to get away from here before we are shot, also. Put the woman in the car and tie her hands and gag her.”

  “Better we should kill her and leave her here.”

  “Idiot! What if we need a hostage?”

  “But—”

  “Just shut up and do as I say.”

  He took a moment to toss everything they might need into the satchel the driver had given them. Then he lifted Malik over his shoulder, trying his best to shut out the man’s screams of pain, and carried him out to the car. He had a tremendous sense of urgency, aware that if things had gone to shit they had little more than seconds to get away.

  Again he cursed the jackass who had shot Malik, the idiot who had dumped them here, and whoever was on the other end of that phone call and seemed to be washing his hands of them. Had someone else been given the assignment for which they’d trained for months? That better not happen. Jamal knew how to exact revenge.

  The nurse was in the back seat where Kasim had dumped her, gagged as he’d ordered with her hands bound behind her back. He placed Malik as gently as possible, resting his head on the unconscious woman’s lap.

  “I’ll drive,” Jamal snapped. “Squeeze in the front seat and have your gun ready.”

  As he cranked the engine, he saw the man who had been with the nurse emerge from the tall grasses that filled the area. The very man he had sent Farid to dispose of. Fuck! Where the hell was Farid? He should have known better. Farid was the worst shot of all of them. He was only part of the team because of his other skills.

  Fine. They had one chance to get out of here. Jamal floored the accelerator, heading straight for the man, who stood directly in front of them firing straight at them He and Kasim ducked to avoid the bullets that hit the windshield, spraying glass everywhere.

  “Shoot him, you idiot!” he swore at Kasim.

  But Kasim’s aim was affected by his movements to avoid being shot himself. All his shots missed the man, who jumped to the side at the last moment, still firing at them. And there was no sign of Farid.

  “He almost hit me!” Kasim screamed. “Get us the fuck out of here.”

  Shit!

  It was a miracle they got past the man without any more hits, but they were in deep trouble. Malik was moaning in the back seat and the car had taken several hits from the bullets. They couldn’t drive it anywhere in the condition it was in, which included two flat tires. As the man had jumped out of the way, he had continued to fire and shot them out.

  They’d be lucky if they weren’t all eliminated for botching this as badly as they had.

  “Now what?” Kasim asked as they reached the road that led in from the highway. “We are fucked, Jamal. If that guy is alive, Farid is surely dead, and the shooter will be after us. You have made a mess of this.”

  “I have made a mess of this? Don’t even go there. Anyway, he has no way to follow us right now because we have their car. I will get us another vehicle, so just shut the fuck up.”

  Lucky for them, there was no traffic at the moment on the side road. There were, however, two houses, set way back from the road, each with vehicles in their driveway. Jamal hotwired one in the first driveway, thanking Allah that he could do it swiftly. When the homeowner came out to see what was going on, Jamal shot him. They g
ot Malik into the new vehicle, but as he reached in for the nurse, he realized she had come to and was kicking out at him.

  “What’s going on out here?” Someone was screaming at him.

  Jamal looked sideways to see a woman rushing out of the house pointing a shotgun at him.

  Fuck! Can my luck get any worse?

  Leaving the woman in the car, he jumped in the hotwired vehicle, backed up in a spray of gravel and took off like a bat out of hell.

  “You left the nurse in the car,” Kasim pointed out. “Now we have no hostage.”

  “Did you want us to get shot while we dragged her out of the car? Just shut up and keep an eye on Malik. We have to find a place to hide for the moment and I have to use one of those phones to call our contact. It’s time for him to help us so we can do the job we were brought here to do.”

  And pray to Allah that we don’t get killed along the way.

  Chapter Seven

  Motherfucker!

  Marc ejected the empty magazine from his .9 mm Glock 17 pistol, grabbed a full one from his pocket and jammed it into place as he ran after the car. He’d aimed for the front seat and the two men sitting there, but he’d been a second or two late, giving them a chance to duck down. It pissed him off that he, a reasoned Delta Force solider, hadn’t been able to take out his target. Plus, his gut told him Nikki was in that car, even though he hadn’t seen her, and he didn’t want one of his bullets to hit her. Damn! He needed to stop these assholes.

  The morning had begun so nicely. After a night of incredible, erotic, fulfilling sex, he’d kissed her good morning and hugged her before she headed to the little restaurant store at the crossroads for the highly recommended cinnamon rolls. As soon as she was out of the door he’d jumped in the shower. Fifteen minutes later, showered and shaved, he was out on the porch drinking a cup of coffee and watching for her. And waiting. And waiting.