Cindy Gerard - Killing Time

“Sounds like you’re in like Flynn.”

Because he couldn’t help himself, he lifted a lock of hair away from her face, played absently with the ends. “Not exactly. He hasn’t turned over our handguns or the phone, so apparently he sees me as enough of a question mark that he’s not yet ready to hand me keys to the kingdom. He’s short a training specialist, too. I’m going to convince him I’m the man for that position but that’ll take a little more time. Just like it will take a little more time to finagle a tour of the armory. I might have to resort to a sneak-and-peek to see what they’ve got tucked away in that building.”

“You’re going out tonight?”

Mike bent a knee and rested his forearm on top of it. “Lots of cloud cover. A little wind. Sounds like good conditions.”

“You want company?”

She was so tired, she could barely keep her eyes open. Yet she was ready to go if he asked her. “I think this is a solo gig. Just to get the feel of the place.

“Hey,” he said before she could lodge a protest. “I made a friend today.” His grin told her he was pretty pleased with himself.

“You and Simmons bond over bullets, did you?”

His grin widened. “Nah, I think I burned that bridge. Guy by the name of Beaver. Even has the buck teeth to go with it. He’s not much more than a kid—physically or mentally. Exactly the type Lawson likes to mold. Only Bucky has a little weakness. He’s pretty much in awe of me for doing time for that B&E. Sees me as a real badass.”

“I’m sure the black eye helps cement the image. How does that feel, by the way?”

“It’s fine. As for Bucky, yeah, just about everything about me impressed him. It didn’t take long to figure out that all I had to do to prime his pump was tell him a few stories about life in stir while we were on the shooting range.”

“That must have been good.”

“Oh, it was. Plus he hates Simmons. The big dog has lifted his leg on the little dog one too many times, so we have something in common. Anyway, now he wants to show me he’s important and a badass, too.

He wants to share secrets.”

“What kind of secrets?”

“I don’t know yet. But he’s busting to let me know he’s got inside info. Important enough to make him feel superior and show me he’s got status around here.”

“And nothing makes a little man feel bigger than sharing what he knows, to prove his importance.”

“Exactly. I’m hoping he can clue me in on where Lawson spends his time. I haven’t figured out where the general lays his head yet. That seems to be top secret… so maybe when I find his bed, I find where he stashes his important papers.” Which was the purpose of their visit.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. I let Lawson know I had a couple friends wanting to join the movement.” Gabe and Green, who were waiting in the wings for the call.

“How’d he react to that?”

“He didn’t have much to say. But I know he’s thinking about it—especially after I told him they were disenfranchised former Special Forces. He could use some thinkers with military backgrounds. It’s pretty clear his recruits are mostly rejects and derelicts who don’t lend much more than muscle to the cause.”

“Maybe that’s the way he likes it. Men like that are easily led.”

“True, but Lawson can’t do all the leading—not and keep his fingers in his other pies.”

“Like fraternizing with the Juarez cartel.”

“Exactly. His executive officer was Army for four years but that’s it. No one else has any special skills. Not too many sharp tacks in that drawer, either. I can tell that Lawson knows his top tier is lacking. He tries not to show that he’s frustrated by it. He has to delegate at some point and it’s apparent he’s starting to realize he doesn’t have a lot of go-to guys to carry the load.”

He grinned again. “That’s where I come in. And Gabe and Joe. Military background, school of experience and hard knocks. At least that’s the plan.”

“So fingers crossed.”

“And soon, I hope. We could use more eyes. It’s a big compound. And Lawson is as paranoid as we figured he’d be. He’s stationed guards everywhere. It’s going to be hard—even pulling night recon—so I’m hoping he falls for the bait and lets me contact them.”

She yawned then, and he realized how tired she really was.

“So what about you?”

“Oh, you know how it goes. A captive woman’s work is never done. Didn’t offer much opportunity for recon. But I did figure out their work patterns. They divide the women up into units, then rotate duties every two hours. That way everyone hits the laundry, or garden, or kitchen, or child care duties at some point every day. Makes us well-rounded little robots. When the women change work shifts, I noticed the men changed guard duties as well. So it looks like they run two-hour shifts all the way through.”

“Any dissension in the ranks?”

She compressed her lips, shook her head. “If there is, they didn’t share with me—not this quickly. It’s going to take a while to gain any trust. I think they’re so browbeaten and brainwashed, they simply move with the herd.” She fisted her hands, then winced.

“What?” he asked.

“Just a blister. It’s really pretty disgusting, how soft I am. I don’t know whether to admire these women for how tough they are, or slap them silly for letting these men use and manipulate them this way.”

He lifted her hand, inspected it in the fading light, then brought it to his lips and kissed her boo-boo, which made her smile in a way that told him he’d surprised her and pleased her.

“It’s the kids that tear me up,” he said. “The girls, especially.”

She nodded, then yawned again and dragged her hair away from her face. “I don’t know what’s going to give me more pleasure: exposing Lawson or giving these people a chance to go back to a normal life.”

“How about you forget about Lawson until morning, because I think I know exactly what kind of pleasure you need tonight.” He got up and flipped off the overhead light, then rejoined her on the bed.

“Oh, Mike—I don’t—”

“Shh.” He pushed himself to his hands and knees and straddled her. “All you have to do is lie there.”

As tired as she was, she gave a pure female shiver when he gripped her hips and pulled her down the bed until she was reclined.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her flat abdomen after peeling the cotton boxers down her hips.

“And this,” he whispered, lightly nipping the point of her hip, then slowly working his way down to the apex of her thighs. “All. Day. Long.”

Her low groan of pleasure made him smile as she opened her legs wide for him and let him have his way. Let him open her feminine folds with his fingers. Let him nuzzle and kiss and lick and suck, until her hips were lifting to his mouth and her hands were clutching the sheets and she was coming apart for him, overwhelmed by passion, victorious in her surrender.

It was close to midnight before Mike slipped out of the cabin, dressed in his night gear: black pants, black long-sleeved shirt, black gloves, and boots. He’d pulled a black mask over his face to minimize any possible glare from a flashlight beam, in the event he alerted a guard.

He hid in the shadows of the cabin, letting his eyes adjust, listening to the rhythm of the camp, familiarizing himself with the sounds, checking his watch as a two-man guard detail walked by, getting a feel for their level of awareness. It was clear they were pretty relaxed, their threat level low. They’d done this drill many times before and were comfortable with the routine. They weren’t anticipating trouble, and he wasn’t going to give them any. Not tonight.