“She’s Bruce Mercer’s daughter!” the gunman snarled. “You think he didn’t train her? Until we’re clear, I’m keeping my weapon on her.”
Drew blinked. “Bruce Mercer’s daughter,” he repeated softly, considering the information it appeared.
No, I’m not!
But did Drew know that?
“I guess that changes things,” Drew said. Then he turned away and hurried back to the chopper without even a second glance. In seconds, all of the men had climbed in behind him and Tina found herself secured in the backseat.
The blades were spinning again, matching the frantic beat of her heart, and the helicopter rose high into the air.
* * *
HIS COVER WAS about to be blown to hell and back.
Drew Lancaster slowly lowered the chopper onto the landing pad. His jaw was locked tight, his hands held the controls securely and rage beat at his insides.
Tina Jamison.
When he’d landed the bird on that roof, the pretty little doctor had sure been the last person he’d expected to see. But she’d spun toward him, her eyes wide and desperate behind the lenses of her glasses, and he’d realized that he was in some serious trouble.
She’d known who he was. Without even seeing his face, Tina had known. Maybe his voice had given him away. He hadn’t bothered to change accents with this particular group. He’d just wanted them to think he was a slow-talking, ex-soldier from Mississippi. A man with a grudge against the government. A man willing to do just about anything for cash.
Tina’s face had lit with hope when she’d seen him. Such a beautiful face it was, too. He’d found himself admiring it more and more during his visits to the doc at the main EOD office. She’d been all business, of course, checking his vitals, talking to him about stress in the field.
He’d been imagining her naked.
Before the blades had stopped spinning, Lee Slater was already out of the chopper and dragging Tina with him. The jerk still had that gun far too close to her for Drew’s peace of mind.
How am I supposed to get her out of here?
With narrowed eyes, Drew watched Tina and Lee vanish into the main house. More armed men followed them inside.
They were in the middle of Texas, at a dot on the map that most folks would never find. It wasn’t as if the cops were just going to rush in and rescue the kidnapped woman.
He was deep undercover. Working under the alias of Stone Creed. The men here—they were looking to cause as much chaos on U.S. soil as they possibly could. They were into drugs, into weapons and into wrecking the political powers that be.
And, in particular, it seemed that the men were looking to take out the EOD. Or, more specifically, they wanted to destroy Bruce Mercer.
Drew climbed from the chopper and checked his own gun.
“Can you believe it?” the excited voice asked from behind him.
Drew looked back just as Carl Monroe yanked off his ski mask. Yeah, that mask wasn’t exactly necessary anymore. Not since they were back on their own turf. They didn’t have to worry about unwanted eyes seeing them here.
Carl grinned. “We got the EOD director’s daughter!”
No, they hadn’t. Drew swallowed. Bruce Mercer did have a daughter, all right, but that daughter wasn’t Tina Jamison.
What would happen when the men realized that they’d taken the wrong woman?
She will become a dead woman.
He couldn’t let that happen. He’d been sent in to gather intel on this group, to determine just how much of a threat the individuals known as HAVOC posed—and, once his assessment had been made, his team was supposed to eliminate that threat.
It sure looked as if his timetable had just been accelerated.
“She sure is pretty,” Carl said. Like Lee, Carl was a Texas boy, born and bred. He was also very, very dangerous. Carl liked to use his knife—often. And, according to his file, Carl enjoyed watching his victims slowly die from their knife wounds. Torture and pain were all part of Carl’s twisted package.