Chapter Twenty-Six

The night was darker and colder by the time TEAM Agent Heston Contreras arrived and expertly landed the Bell 429 corporate helicopter in the decrepit, weed-filled airfield next to the hangar. Shane liked the guy on sight. Dressed in a navy-blue flight suit, Heston was black-haired and olive-skinned in the way of his Mexican ancestry, and he'd definitely been blessed with Hollywood handsome features. From the way the rotor's downdraft ruffled his short but thick black hair when he stepped out of the cockpit, to his tall, slender, but athletically muscled frame, he was one of those guys who made other guys look like clumsy trolls. He stood a good foot over Everlee, but only a couple inches taller than Tuesday. Everlee seemed a bit smitten if the sparkle in her eyes meant what Shane thought it did. Which irked him despite knowing Contreras had had his shot at Everlee and had obviously missed.

After she made quick introductions, and after Contreras stopped schmoozing the ladies, he assisted the women up into the helo and personally fastened them into the two rear, forward-facing executive seats. He took time making sure their protective aviation headsets fit securely, then offered both bottled waters and plastic-wrapped sub-sandwiches, along with individual-sized bags of chips. The guy was a gentleman to the max, and it was obvious he'd charmed them. Even Tuesday's eyes were bright and sparkling. Funny how that didn't bug Shane at all, but how he wished Contreras would trip or stumble—or something—when he catered to Ev.

She was exhausted, Shane could tell. She hadn't ordered him around once since he'd rescued her from that mess in the barn. Well, except when she'd stabbed his chest. If anything, she seemed more subdued and thoughtful, maybe even introverted since Mother broke the news of who he was—not qualities he would've ever ascribed to Agent Everlee Yeager.

While Heston lingered, chatting with her and Tuesday, making jokes and just overall settling them down, Shane dropped Everlee's and his gear bags inside the rear compartment alongside her seat. She was running on empty. There were dark crescents beneath her eyes, so he made sure she knew where her gear was in case she needed something. Made him feel stupid for crashing like he had before, and sleeping those precious hours away. She was the one those bastards had battered, the one who should've taken a nap. She should've soaked in a hot bath, too, followed by a three-course dinner, maybe a bottle of wine. She needed a back rub, and—

"How you doing, Shane?" she asked, interrupting his salacious wayward thoughts. "Headache still gone?"

While Heston was busy impressing Tuesday, Shane leaned into Everlee and told her, "I'm fine, Ev. When we get back, how about a date? We could go out for dinner one night. Or breakfast or lunch, whatever you'd like."

The smile that broke out on her face and the sparkle in those deep brown eyes was like watching the sun rise in the middle of night. "I'd like that," she answered, oddly submissive considering the take-charge woman she was. "Name the time and place and I'll be there."

He shook his head. "Uh-uh. How about I swing by your place and pick you up instead?"

She demurred, dropping her gaze. "That'd be nice."

Shane tipped inside the doorway and put a finger under her chin, needing to look into those pretty browns again. "I've got your six, babe," he told her, running a hand over her shoulder to the nape of her neck. "You know everything about me, everything that matters. You can talk to me, Ev. Hope you know that."

A sigh lifted both of her shoulders, and at last, she made eye contact. "Someday, I'll take you up on that offer, but not now, okay? It's… it's been a really long day."

He winked and smiled, willing to wait until she was ready. "Whenever you decide." He stepped back. "All strapped in?"

She nodded. "Don't get hurt, okay? Alex will kill me if you do."

"Look who's talking, the gal with a chair leg."

"Hey, I could've taken both those two jerks down with that weapon, and you know it."

"But a woman shouldn't have to fight her battles alone, should she?"

"Are you calling me Chair Force?" she quipped.

He grinned. "Never, babe. Now lean back. Get some shut-eye. I'll wake you once we arrive."

Shane closed her door, then went up front and hunkered into the co-pilot seat, belted into the safety harness, and snapped a headset on. Tipping back into the luxurious headrest, he listened to the chatter between Heston and his guests. The man was precisely what Everlee and Tuesday needed—a diversion. He treated both like equals, kept everything professional but lighthearted.

The entire conversation came through crisp and clear, while at the same time, the high-tech headset muted the overwhelming power of the rotors humming overhead. Shane had traveled in plenty of noisy Navy and USMC choppers in the past, all rugged workhorses built for utility and combat. But this luxury bird of Alex's was something else. Sleek, clean, and downright comfortable, riding in the Bell 429 was a welcome change from the prospect of camping on the ground tonight and sleeping in the open.

Shane was feeling relaxed and a titch spoiled—until he noticed the six-barreled electronically-operated mini-guns framed inside sturdy racks just inside both rear doors. Also, two sets of monkey harnesses secured to industrial-strength eye hooks fastened to the floor by the rear seats. Then Shane felt even better. Those harnesses would keep a Marine safely inside the chopper if something ugly came up and he had to man one of those mini-guns. Leave it to Alex to think of everything.

After Heston finished securing his charges, he climbed out the side rear door, shut and locked it, then climbed into the pilot seat and told Shane, "You look like shit."

Shane extended a hand and replied, "Good to meet you, too, Contreras. Thanks for the ride."

Heston nodded back toward the ladies. Instead of shaking hands, he signed for Shane to change channels on his headset. Once Shane made the adjustment, he asked, "Everlee looks pretty bad. Do I need to stop at a hospital first? Maybe somewhere we can all get a good night's sleep before we finish this war?"

"No way!" she barked from where she sat behind Shane. "I read lips, you know. The plan is we attack now, before Astor gets away. Don't even think of taking me to some emergency room."

"Nope, we're good," Shane assured him, grinning at the vehemence in former LT Yeager's tone. Heston and he switched back to their original channel. "Besides she'll take both our heads off if we even think of babying her. She just needs a safe place to rest a while, and a trip in this helo will do fine. Mother said she knows where Maeve Astor is, so I'm assuming you're taking us to her. We'd really like to wrap this mission up tonight. That possible?"

"Absolutely," Heston agreed. "Yeah, Mom and I talked." He twisted around and faced Everlee, who was seated directly behind Shane. "Astor and her goons are at the Capital Hotel in Little Rock. Five stars all the way for that witch. God, I hate cold-blooded murderers, don't you?"

"You know it. How many goons are you talking?"

"A few. Five, six at the most. She's in the penthouse, top level. It's got four guest bedrooms and a master suite. I'd imagine her bodyguards are there with her. Might even be in those spare bedrooms."

"You think you can get Ev and me inside?" Shane asked.

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely." The cocky grin Heston shot Shane dazzled. Figured, he'd have bright white, perfectly straight teeth, too. "The landing pad's located right above her suite. There's a stairwell down to the penthouse, and the roof's soundproofed, so she'll never hear our approach. I can set this baby down without anyone in the hotel even knowing we're there. No offense, but I'm going in with you and Ev. Or did you want me to babysit Ms. Smart?"

"I trust Tuesday, but yeah," Shane said, "I'd appreciate you staying with her. She's been through enough."

A cocky spark danced inside Heston's dark eyes. "No problem, amigo. I'd pick standing guard over a pretty woman over combat any day."

Shane nodded his agreement. "Good, let's wake this troll up."

"My pleasure." Adeptly, Heston worked the controls, lifting the helo up from the hardpacked Arkansas ground like a dragonfly flitting off a lily pad.

"'Bout damned time," Everlee grumbled.

Shane turned around as far as he could and gave her a thumbs-up.

"I want a pistol," Tuesday said quietly. "You're not leaving me behind like some stupid Disney princess. I'm going in with you guys, and I want to be armed."

The silence in the chopper was damned loud. And awkward. Shane twisted within his safety harness far enough around to look into her face. Nothing but determination stared back at him.

Heston didn't miss a beat. "Works for me," he replied easily, still looking straight ahead. "You're not trained for this kind of infil though, ma'am. It'll be dangerous. She's a twisted piece of work but hell yeah, you need a pistol. I'll load it for you and teach you how to shoot it. But it'd still be safer for us if you stayed behind. I'd be glad to stay with you."

"I know how to defend myself," she replied crisply, "and I said I'm going in with you guys. If I can face down a mother polar bear defending her two cubs, I can face this bitch and her goons. Besides, that will make it a fairer fight, four of us against her and however many guys are dumb enough to be in there with her."

Shane shot Heston a grin, but had to ask, "Any TEAM rules about an alleged black widow taking down the real black widow responsible for killing her husband and maligning her good name?"

"Sounds fair to me," Everlee replied. "But Tuesday, Heston's right. You're not trained like we are, and with you along, we'll be worrying about your safety when we should be focused on Astor. You going in puts us at more risk, might even get one of us hurt. You've got time before we hit the hotel, so think about what you're asking."

"She killed Freddie, Everlee. I know she did and your Mother person has the evidence to prove it. I should be the one who puts a bullet between Astor's beady eyes. You guys are probably better shots, but this is personal, damn it. Freddie deserves—"

"To be avenged?" Heston interrupted quietly. He glanced briefly over his shoulder. "I agree, but making this about revenge makes you our weak link. I'm not telling you no, but please think about what you're asking. We'll surely all have your back if you decide to face Astor. But to us, this is just a job. She's trash and taking out trash is what we're trained to do. But you're an artist, senorita. A sensitive, classy woman. It'd be our pleasure to do this dirty job for you. Please reconsider. Taking a life puts a dark hashmark on your soul you'll live with the rest of your days. Be certain that's truly what you want."

Shane couldn't have phrased it any better. His gaze shifted to Everlee's hand. She'd reached across the short space between her and Tuesday's seats and now had hold of Tuesday's wrist. "Heston's right," Everlee said. "Astor is a despicable piece of garbage, the worst kind, and believe me, all of us understand where you're coming from. Just be sure before we land, okay? Think about it. Because once we get there, we're going in fast and hard."

"And there will be blood," Shane added quietly through their shared communication link.

"With seven high-value targets, extreme chaos, too," Heston explained. "Surprise will only be on our side for a few seconds, but one of us could still get hurt."

"Will you have body cams?" Tuesday asked more timidly.

Shane hadn't thought of that. He looked to Heston for the answer.

"I have two helmets cams aboard. If that will keep you safe, whoever goes in can certainly record what goes down for you."

"Can't I watch it live? While it's happening?" This question was asked more hesitantly. Shane dared to hope that Heston's delicate touch was working on Tuesday's determination.

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely," Heston replied. That seemed to be his go-to cuss word. "I'll even make a copy if you'd like."

Shane heard the breath whoosh out of Tuesday. "No, that's okay. I don't need one. But please end her, Agent Hayes," she all but pleaded. "I don't care what she's done to me, but she killed Freddie. I know she did. Make her pay. Promise me."

"Everlee and I will take care of her." Shane couldn't promise Astor's execution, though. That was not who he was. But one way or the other, he would take Astor out of circulation. How she ended this day, dead or alive, was entirely up to her.

Heston turned to face Shane. "Helmets are in overhead storage. Gear up, amigos. Touch down in ten minutes."