P.J. had vanished. It frustrated him to no end. He’d spent a lot of time canvassing her neighborhood, talking to people about her. The problem was, no one really knew her. The bartender and waitress at the pub where he’d gone to see her that first night said she had been a regular but kept to herself and never talked to other customers.
Cole had even gone so far as to see the commander of her S.W.A.T. unit. It had taken all he had not to lose his temper and get some payback on P.J.’s behalf, but getting information had been more important than his fury over her betrayal.
It had been like hitting a brick wall, though. At the mention of P.J.’s name, the commander had clammed up and refused to discuss anything having to do with her. Cole told the asshole what he thought about him and his team of dickheads before taking his leave.
Six months of no sleep and endless frustration were catching up hard with him. He walked to the entrance to the war room, punched in the pass code and then entered. As he walked down the short corridor into the main room, he rubbed at his eyes and then scuffed a hand over his short-cut hair in an effort to look somewhat presentable.
Everyone was present and accounted for, which meant Cole was late. Not that he gave a shit. He grunted in the general direction of his teammates and slouched into a chair.
“Glad you could make it,” Steele said, a hint of anger in his voice.
“You said it was important. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here at all,” Cole snapped.
He glanced around, frowning as he noticed new faces. There was a guy standing close to Swanny and Joe, arms crossed, his stance stiff, like he was expecting a fight at any time. He was about Garrett’s size with tattoos running up both arms, disappearing behind the short sleeves of his T-shirt.
He looked like he’d been in a few too many bar fights. Cole pegged him as a boxer or perhaps a mixed martial arts fighter because he had the telltale beginnings of the cauliflower ears and his nose looked like it had been broken at least once.
Cole tensed when he noticed the female standing between Nathan and Swanny. She was about P.J.’s size but with honey blond hair and deep blue eyes. She looked young. Far too young to be working on a mercenary team.
Then he was struck by a terrible thought. His stomach churned and a knot formed in his gut.
What if they’d called him in to announce that they’d hired someone to fill P.J.’s position on the team? What if this was some stupid meet and greet? A “let’s make the new recruit feel welcome.” Bullshit. He wasn’t going there.
He glanced at Steele, looking for some clue, but Steele’s expression was hard and cold. Cole could get a chill just from looking at his team leader.
“You didn’t hire her to replace P.J.”
He didn’t make it a question, and his disgust was evident for everyone to hear. He didn’t care. He was in a surly, piss-poor mood and he didn’t really give a fuck who knew it.
He didn’t want to be here. Especially if he was going to be told he had a new teammate. This chick couldn’t hold a candle to P.J. Cole didn’t care what her qualifications were.
Steele’s eyes narrowed, and then he glanced back at the woman before turning back to Cole.
“She’s a recruit for the new team,” Steele said.
Cole’s eyebrow went up. “What new team?”
“If you’d spent any time with your team over the last few months, you’d know that KGI has formed a third team comprised of Nathan, Joe and Swanny and two new recruits, Skylar Watkins and Zane Edgerton.”
Cole dismissed them in a glance. He wanted to know what the big, hairy deal was that made Steele call him up. Two new recruits for a team that wasn’t his own couldn’t have been what made Steele call him in.
Donovan, who’d been on the phone in the corner, stuffed the cell back into his pocket and then walked over to where everyone else was gathered.
“We have a lead on Brumley,” he said. “We know where he’ll be in three days’ time. He has another deal going down, one important enough for him to resurface.” Donovan took a breath and leveled a serious stare at the others. “This one’s big. Much bigger than past ones. He’s gotten a hell of a lot bolder. It’s thought he has well over thirty girls. A mixture of nationalities and all under the age of fifteen.”
There were grimaces and noises of disgust. Skylar’s nostrils flared and her eyes burned with anger.
Cole’s pulse accelerated, and his stomach churned. He’d dreamed of having that son of a bitch at his mercy. He’d conjured up some pretty harsh images of all the ways Brumley would die a long, painful death.
He glanced up at Steele, noticing the savage glint in his eyes.
Cole sat forward, propping his elbows on his knees. Yeah, he wanted in, but his first priority was finding P.J. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by revenge. Killing Brumley wouldn’t bring P.J. back, as satisfying as seeing the bastard die would be.
He started to get up, his intention to leave. Being here with all the members of KGI just highlighted P.J.’s absence even more.
The entire idea of a mercenary group was to be detached. Do the job. Don’t get emotionally involved. Their success hinged on being able to turn off their emotions.
But KGI—his team, headed by Steele—was different. It was a hokey bunch of bullshit, but the entire KGI organization wasn’t the average gun-for-hire group. They had a conscience. Their missions were righteous. At least from their perspective, and that was all that was important. At the end of the day, if they could look at themselves in the mirror and not flinch away, it was all good.
“Sit down, Cole,” Steele said. “You need to hear this.”
Cole’s jaw tightened, but then he saw the glint in Steele’s eyes. It wasn’t anger over the fact that Cole had been about to walk out. There was keen interest. Anticipation. Like something big was about to go down.
It made Cole stop in his tracks.
Donovan picked up a folder from the table and opened it before addressing the occupants of the room.
“We’ve been looking for Brumley for months. He disappeared, and it seems he’s been hiding. Which is interesting enough—given his arrogance and the fact that he has so many connections, he’s never concerned himself with being too obscure.”
“He’s got a damn horseshoe stuck up his ass,” Garrett bit out. “The son of a bitch is lucky.”
P.J. had vanished. It frustrated him to no end. He’d spent a lot of time canvassing her neighborhood, talking to people about her. The problem was, no one really knew her. The bartender and waitress at the pub where he’d gone to see her that first night said she had been a regular but kept to herself and never talked to other customers.
Cole had even gone so far as to see the commander of her S.W.A.T. unit. It had taken all he had not to lose his temper and get some payback on P.J.’s behalf, but getting information had been more important than his fury over her betrayal.
It had been like hitting a brick wall, though. At the mention of P.J.’s name, the commander had clammed up and refused to discuss anything having to do with her. Cole told the asshole what he thought about him and his team of dickheads before taking his leave.
Six months of no sleep and endless frustration were catching up hard with him. He walked to the entrance to the war room, punched in the pass code and then entered. As he walked down the short corridor into the main room, he rubbed at his eyes and then scuffed a hand over his short-cut hair in an effort to look somewhat presentable.
Everyone was present and accounted for, which meant Cole was late. Not that he gave a shit. He grunted in the general direction of his teammates and slouched into a chair.
“Glad you could make it,” Steele said, a hint of anger in his voice.
“You said it was important. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here at all,” Cole snapped.
He glanced around, frowning as he noticed new faces. There was a guy standing close to Swanny and Joe, arms crossed, his stance stiff, like he was expecting a fight at any time. He was about Garrett’s size with tattoos running up both arms, disappearing behind the short sleeves of his T-shirt.
He looked like he’d been in a few too many bar fights. Cole pegged him as a boxer or perhaps a mixed martial arts fighter because he had the telltale beginnings of the cauliflower ears and his nose looked like it had been broken at least once.
Cole tensed when he noticed the female standing between Nathan and Swanny. She was about P.J.’s size but with honey blond hair and deep blue eyes. She looked young. Far too young to be working on a mercenary team.
Then he was struck by a terrible thought. His stomach churned and a knot formed in his gut.
What if they’d called him in to announce that they’d hired someone to fill P.J.’s position on the team? What if this was some stupid meet and greet? A “let’s make the new recruit feel welcome.” Bullshit. He wasn’t going there.
He glanced at Steele, looking for some clue, but Steele’s expression was hard and cold. Cole could get a chill just from looking at his team leader.
“You didn’t hire her to replace P.J.”
He didn’t make it a question, and his disgust was evident for everyone to hear. He didn’t care. He was in a surly, piss-poor mood and he didn’t really give a fuck who knew it.
He didn’t want to be here. Especially if he was going to be told he had a new teammate. This chick couldn’t hold a candle to P.J. Cole didn’t care what her qualifications were.
Steele’s eyes narrowed, and then he glanced back at the woman before turning back to Cole.
“She’s a recruit for the new team,” Steele said.
Cole’s eyebrow went up. “What new team?”
“If you’d spent any time with your team over the last few months, you’d know that KGI has formed a third team comprised of Nathan, Joe and Swanny and two new recruits, Skylar Watkins and Zane Edgerton.”
Cole dismissed them in a glance. He wanted to know what the big, hairy deal was that made Steele call him up. Two new recruits for a team that wasn’t his own couldn’t have been what made Steele call him in.
Donovan, who’d been on the phone in the corner, stuffed the cell back into his pocket and then walked over to where everyone else was gathered.
“We have a lead on Brumley,” he said. “We know where he’ll be in three days’ time. He has another deal going down, one important enough for him to resurface.” Donovan took a breath and leveled a serious stare at the others. “This one’s big. Much bigger than past ones. He’s gotten a hell of a lot bolder. It’s thought he has well over thirty girls. A mixture of nationalities and all under the age of fifteen.”
There were grimaces and noises of disgust. Skylar’s nostrils flared and her eyes burned with anger.
Cole’s pulse accelerated, and his stomach churned. He’d dreamed of having that son of a bitch at his mercy. He’d conjured up some pretty harsh images of all the ways Brumley would die a long, painful death.
He glanced up at Steele, noticing the savage glint in his eyes.
Cole sat forward, propping his elbows on his knees. Yeah, he wanted in, but his first priority was finding P.J. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by revenge. Killing Brumley wouldn’t bring P.J. back, as satisfying as seeing the bastard die would be.
He started to get up, his intention to leave. Being here with all the members of KGI just highlighted P.J.’s absence even more.
The entire idea of a mercenary group was to be detached. Do the job. Don’t get emotionally involved. Their success hinged on being able to turn off their emotions.
But KGI—his team, headed by Steele—was different. It was a hokey bunch of bullshit, but the entire KGI organization wasn’t the average gun-for-hire group. They had a conscience. Their missions were righteous. At least from their perspective, and that was all that was important. At the end of the day, if they could look at themselves in the mirror and not flinch away, it was all good.
“Sit down, Cole,” Steele said. “You need to hear this.”
Cole’s jaw tightened, but then he saw the glint in Steele’s eyes. It wasn’t anger over the fact that Cole had been about to walk out. There was keen interest. Anticipation. Like something big was about to go down.
It made Cole stop in his tracks.
Donovan picked up a folder from the table and opened it before addressing the occupants of the room.
“We’ve been looking for Brumley for months. He disappeared, and it seems he’s been hiding. Which is interesting enough—given his arrogance and the fact that he has so many connections, he’s never concerned himself with being too obscure.”
“He’s got a damn horseshoe stuck up his ass,” Garrett bit out. “The son of a bitch is lucky.”
“Yeah, well when you add the kind of money and power he has to luck, you get someone damn near invincible,” Sam said.
“He’s scared,” Donovan said.
He got everyone’s attention with those words.
“Two members of his personal security team, men he’s never without, have turned up dead,” Donovan continued. “Brumley doesn’t take a shit without them, so the fact that someone got close enough to kill his guards is enough to make him spooky. It’s probably why he’s gone to ground for these past months. He’s been quiet, but the magnitude of this new deal apparently was enough to flush him out of his dark hole.”
Donovan pulled out a stack of enlarged photos and then carefully laid them out on the table.
Curiosity got the better of Cole, and he moved so he could see the pictures.
Several whistles and exclamations echoed through the room as everyone crowded around the table.
“Holy shit,” Dolphin said. “Whoever killed these dudes harbored some serious animosity. This isn’t a simple execution. This is personal.”
Cole stared down, frozen, as he took in the cuts on the men’s bodies. One vertically down the midline of their chest. Two more above the ribs. Two on the insides of their thighs. And each one had his throat slashed. In one instance, the head looked to only be barely attached to the rest of his body.
Ice crept through his veins until he felt incapable of moving or reacting. Fear clutched his insides.
“Sweet Jesus,” he finally whispered.
His hands shook as he picked up one of the pictures. Then he looked first at Donovan and then at Steele. Both had the same recognition in their eyes.
Cole let the picture fall from his fingers to the table. “P.J. went after them.”
“We believe so, yes,” Donovan said grimly.
Cole picked up the picture again, held it up and pointed to the knife wounds. “Believe? This is pretty conclusive evidence. These wounds are identical to the ones that bastard put on P.J. You were there. The only people who saw them were us and the assholes responsible for it happening to her. We’re supposed to believe it’s a coincidence P.J. quits her team, disappears and then guys who have ties to Brumley start showing up dead?”
“It’s why we want to get to Brumley before she does,” Steele said.
“Hell yes we have to get to him before she does,” Cole bit out. “I don’t want her near that bastard ever again.”
Dear God. The idea of P.J. going vigilante filled him with gut-wrenching fear he hadn’t felt since he was a brand-new navy recruit back in the day.
She could be dead even now. What if she’d attempted to get to Brumley and the bastard had her right now? Nelson had wanted her as a plaything and would have kept her if Brumley had allowed it. If they ever got their hands on her again, there was no telling what they’d do to her.
“She started with the two men who were there but didn’t participate in the attack on her,” Donovan said in a quiet voice. “There were only four men there when she was raped. Two are dead, which leaves Nelson and Brumley. I think we can assume she has plans to go after both of them. Our intel says that Brumley and Nelson both will be present for this deal to go down. If you want my opinion, I think Brumley knows P.J. is after him and he’s scared because she managed to get to his men without anyone discovering her. But he’s also a greedy bastard, and if he thinks he can surface to make a deal, he’ll do it. He’ll just beef up security.”
“Or he could be fucking with her,” Dolphin said grimly. “He’s the type whose ego wouldn’t allow him to hide from a woman. I’m with Cole. I don’t want that bastard anywhere near her, or rather her anywhere near him.”
The others nodded their agreement.
Cole didn’t want to even think of P.J. falling into Brumley’s hands again. He couldn’t go there or he’d lose his damn mind. He glanced up at the others, resolve etched in every word. “Nothing we can’t handle, right?”
Steele lifted an eyebrow. “That mean you in or you still plan to fuck around solo.”
“Oh, I’m in,” Cole said. “I want to take out both those bastards before P.J. has a chance to get to them. I don’t want her to go through what she did all over again.”
Dolphin, Baker and Renshaw closed in around Steele and Cole. They exchanged fierce looks, their intentions made without ever uttering a word.
“I’m in too,” Donovan said.
Steele frowned. “This is my mission, Van. You’re not taking over. This involves my team. My teammates.”
Sam started to open his mouth, but Donovan shot him a stare that had him backing down. Garrett frowned but didn’t intervene. The rest of the members of KGI looked on with abject interest.
“You’ve got the lead, Steele,” Donovan said calmly. “But I’m along for the ride. I was there. I may not be a member of your team, but I was there with P.J. I heard every goddamn thing you did. I’m the one who let her get away at the party. I have as much a stake in this as you and your team do. P.J. is KGI. You’re all KGI. I’d feel the same if it was any other person.”
Garrett couldn’t contain his silence any longer. “I think we should send at least two teams.”
“Who are you going to send?” Cole demanded. “No way a new team can handle this.” He sent an apologetic look in Nathan and Joe’s direction. “No offense to your team, but this is too important to fuck up.”
He turned his stare back to Sam, Garrett and Donovan. Yeah, technically they ran the show, but everyone knew the teams operated independently.
Donovan stared intently at his two older brothers. “Steele’s team goes and I go with them. You can help by providing intel. But we do this Steele’s way.”
“Then let’s get it done,” Cole cut in impatiently.
He was tired of talking. He was tired of arguing. He just wanted to get moving so he could get to Brumley before P.J. did. If she hadn’t already.
There was a murmur of conversation, mostly between Sam, Garrett and Donovan. Cole’s thoughts had drifted to P.J., wondering if he should have been focusing his search internationally. He would never have dreamed P.J. would have gone after them herself, but it all suddenly made sense.
Why she’d left. Why she’d been so adamant that she cut all ties with her team. It wasn’t that she wanted to. She’d done it because she hadn’t wanted to involve them.
He wanted to strangle her. Anything that happened to her involved the team whether she liked it or not. Just as had been the case when Cole and then Dolphin had taken a bullet while on a mission.