Chapter 12

"Let me get this straight…"

Blair tried not to cringe at the harsh undertone laced through Walker's voice. His fear over her well-being, bleeding through, again. And all because of the plan she'd devised. The one she hoped might result in everyone making it out alive. And not just the mission…

The next fifty years. The length of time Walker had said he wanted to spend with her.

Though, even she had to admit her idea was daft. Borderline suicidal like he'd claimed her note had been. But she'd never have a future if she couldn't prove McClaren was alive. Figure out who he was working for. If it was just himself, Montgomery or another high-ranking official inside SIS. Because there was no way McClaren had acquired all the intel he had at his disposal without the help of someone inside MI6. Especially, when he'd only been MI5, to start with.

Walker glanced around the room, shaking his head at Gretta and Corbin as he continued. "We just risked our asses to get you back. Had to pull your ass literally out of the ocean while being bombarded with heavy fire from resources this McClaren-jackass seems to have a lot of, and your big solution is to go back? Just waltz into the place where they'd planned on killing you? Did I get all that right?"

"Walker."

"I obviously did if that's your reply." He raked his hand through his hair, looking incredibly sexy with it poking up in every direction. His muscles flexing as he tried to rein in his frustration. "Who cares about McClaren? You're alive and breathing. I say, you won."

Blair glanced at Gretta. It had taken more than a bit of groveling to convince her that she'd really tried to send a text. That Blair hadn't simply disregarded all they'd worked for over the past few months. And that if she hadn't been blindsided by her feelings for Walker — the guilt she still harbored for letting Gretta down in the first place — Blair would have had the sense to send off a text before she'd even left.

Though, chances were that Leland, arsehole, had already been jamming the signal. Preventing any chance of Blair giving the details of her mission to anyone. What could result in a rescue attempt, just like Walker, Gretta, and Corbin had managed on their own.

That still shocked her. The lengths that, not just Walker, but his entire team had gone to in order to suss out her location — back her up. She owed them her life, and she wasn't ever going to forget that.

Gretta sighed, moving over to stand beside her. "As much as I agree it's harebrained at best, there's no freedom for either of us if we can't end this. Even if Becca can undo the evidence she thinks will be planted on Blair — maybe get me off that blacklist — the ramifications of this situation go beyond my safety or Blair's. This all started because I caught McClaren taking a payoff from that terrorist cell. What if everything we did in London five months ago didn't stop that attack? What if it only postponed it? Because we obviously didn't clean house the way we'd thought."

Gretta shook her head. "Whatever they're planning, it has to be serious enough they were worried Blair going back to MI6 put their operation at risk and that the only solution was to eliminate her."

Walker scowled. "And you, or did you forget about that wet squad making Swiss cheese out of my house?"

Gretta grinned. "Personally, I think they were trying to cap your arse once they caught the two of you snogging, but if you want to put the blame on me…"

"You're hilarious." He glanced at Corbin, shaking his head when Corbin merely shrugged. "So, you're saying that this is now a matter of international security, and that if we don't go back and get enough proof to have MI6 or Interpol or everyone go after these guys, a lot of people are going to die."

Blair nodded.

He groaned. "That's just great. Fine, I guess we'll find a way to procure a boat because my ride isn't getting airborne, again."

Corbin paled a bit. "Was the chopper that damaged? As in really twenty-percent viability back there? I thought you were exaggerating?"

"The rotors don't fly so well when there're chunks missing."

"You ass. You could have told us it was critical."

"I had everything under control. Unlike, now, with us stuck in a two-bit beach hut, this storm still kicking up white caps, and us down any form of transportation. I can't even raise the team because the radio took a few hits, and there's no cell coverage."

Corbin grinned. "Then, you're lucky me and Gretta came along, old man, because we already found a boat while you two were… talking." The bastard raised his brows. "That is what you were doing, right? Just talking?"

"What else would we have been doing in the middle of an op?"

"Right." Corbin leaned against one of the walls. "Anyway, it's not a yacht or anything, but it should get us the short trip over to Tortola. And if we leave before dawn, and stick close to the shore once we're there, we should be able to beach it fairly close to that villa. Then, it's just hiking our way up, grabbing the evidence, and hightailing it out of there."

"When you put it like that…" Walker exhaled, studying their supplies as he shook his head, again. "Assuming we make it across the ocean without capsizing, and we hike our way up those cliffs without falling to our deaths or getting caught, we'll need some impressive overwatch once we're there. Unless you used up all your ammo, already."

Gretta snorted. "Like we wouldn't bring enough for a small invasion. Corbin can cover?—"

"You and Corbin. You're both going to cover our asses."

"Screw that. He's the long-distance marksman. I'm going in with you and Blair."

"Gretta. It's not that I wouldn't love to have you sneaking around with us, it's just…" Walker lowered his voice. "The more people we take inside, the more likely we'll get spotted. Besides, the real risk will be the men McClaren has guarding his six. While this group may have been willing to keep things low key when they thought Blair would be playing along, and they had time to kill her leisurely once she'd served their agenda. Now that she's escaped, and is a viable threat, I'll bet my chopper McClaren's rallied his troops."

Corbin shoved off the wall, moving in beside Gretta. "You think he'll be expecting us to make an appearance?"

"I think he's already made one mistake. No way, he'll make another by discounting any scenario." Walker arched a brow. "You did bring two rifles along, right?"

Gretta flipped him off. "You already know we did, you sod. You were standing right there when Booker's mate, Charlie, went on and on about how he's never supplied so many weapons for such a small group in his life. Something about how Booker only ever asks for a couple of handguns. You pilots are truly daft."

"The man did get a bit animated. But in his defense, you two tend to go overboard."

"Says the bloke who needed one of my spares inside his own house."

"I was in the kitchen in my boxers. At five in the morning." He crossed his arms over his massive chest. "On a Sunday."

"I know. Where do you think they came up with the phrase, caught with your trousers down."

Blair moved over to him. "You were only in boxers? How did you miss that detail when you recounted the attack?"

"I was saving time."

"Or maybe saving face?" She grinned. "You can show me a reenactment once we're back."

"Oh, I'll be showing you something."

"I swear, if you two don't stop with all the goo-goo eyes, I'll give Walker an accurate reenactment, bullets and all." Corbin motioned toward the set of cushions. "Now, as I see it, we have a few hours to get some sleep, then we're off. Gretta and I will take first watch." He gave Walker some creepy ‘watching you' fingers. "But we'll still be inside. So…"

Blair grinned at him, looping her arm around Walker's. "Don't worry, Corbin. We already got our makeup shag out of the way."

Corbin coughed, looked as if he was going to puke, then shivered. "Seriously? Do all Brits over share? Just keep it g-rated."

He placed his hand on the small of Gretta's back, leading her to the window on the far side.

Blair leaned against Walker's torso when he lifted his arm, then wrapped it around her. "Are you sure you're up for this? You've already rescued me once. Going back there with me is a big ask."

Walker scrunched up his face as if she'd just told him she didn't like flying. "Like I'd tap out, now. Sorry, but you're stuck with me, sweetheart. And for more than just this mission if I have any say."

"You definitely have a say."

"Good, then cuddle up and get some sleep. I have a feeling getting this far was the easy part."

Not exactly the words she wanted to hear, and probably the reason they were still playing in her head hours later as they cut through the crashing waves in the boat, battling the large swells threatening to toss them all overboard. She wasn't sure which one of them would drive, but Walker had claimed the helm, casually stating there wasn't a vessel known to man he couldn't pilot. And he hadn't been exaggerating. Even with the continued white caps — the winds gusting from seemingly every direction — Walker handled the craft with ease, deftly bringing them onto a beach close to where she'd jumped. Showcasing the cliffs in terrifying detail.

Either her perception from the ground was distorted, or the rocks had been much higher than she'd thought while standing on the edge, knowing she could either jump or die.

Walker had been right. She'd been lucky to survive. If he and the others hadn't shown up when they had…

Blair pushed those thoughts aside. No sense wasting energy agonizing over a challenge she'd already faced and won. Not when acquiring enough evidence to prove McClaren had been involved with the terrorist cell from the start seemed more than daunting. Especially, when the villa turned out to be a fortified encampment, complete with perimeter fencing, video surveillance, roving patrols…

The only saving grace was that McClaren didn't seem to have any dogs.

Not that Walker had been impressed when she'd mentioned it, mumbling something about how this was crazy, and she was going to be the death of him. Both Corbin and Gretta had offered to take Walker's place — let him scope enemies from several hundred meters off. But he'd rebuffed the offer, claiming they were the better shot. Though, Blair knew it had nothing to do with his shooting ability and everything to do with having her back. That he'd never be able to sacrifice his life for hers if he was camped out in a tree or on a ledge instead of six inches away. What would only take a push or a shove to stop someone from killing her — getting him, instead.

Not happening. At least, not on her watch. She hadn't been an operative for twelve years and not faced her share of deadly situations. And whether Walker wanted to admit it or not, this kind of mission was exactly what she excelled at.

Which started with finding a weakness in the fence. That one location where it was hidden from the panning cameras with enough foliage on both sides, they could scale it without being seen from any foot patrols. It took several minutes of scouting, but there was one corner boarding a small copse of trees that worked.

Not perfectly, but with a shove from Walker, Blair was up and over in a matter of seconds — guarding their position when Walker dropped in beside her a few moments later. Had he taken more training than he'd alluded to? Because he was silent. Moving more like a spec ops ground soldier than a pilot, all perfectly calculated motion. Not an ounce of energy wasted. Just like Leland and those other blokes.

Walker darted in behind her, crouching low when a couple of men walked along a stone path near the edge of the villa. "What's with the look?"

Blair shrugged as she focused on the patrol. "Just admiring the view. Though, I think you've been holding out on me. You've definitely done this, before."

He snorted. "Not nearly as much as I wish I had. And I don't even want to know how many times you've been in a similar situation because you look way too comfortable."

"I'm a spy. What did you think I did?"

"If I tell you that, you'll hit me, so… Any idea where they'll keep the kind of intel you're looking for?"

"Nowhere easily accessible to us. An office safe. Maybe in McClaren's bedroom. Somewhere he could grab it at a moment's notice if necessary."

"Figured as much. I see two cameras on that far right side. There seems to be a fifteen second interval where they're both covering opposite sides. We'll need to be across the yard and inside before they pan back."

Blair nodded, waiting until the men ambled away, before counting down then hoofing it across the lawn. No ducking, no zigzagging, just her taking the shortest path possible. She vaulted over a small planter, reaching the double French doors with eight seconds to spare. A quick slip of the knife Gretta had loaned her, and she'd lifted the crappy latch holding them closed — had that left door sliding open.

She took a quick peek to ensure there wasn't a platoon of men sitting in the small room, then she was inside, closing the door behind Walker. One second to spare. Though, getting in was the easy part. Cruising around the rooms looking for evidence was what would get them killed if anyone spotted them. Caught even a hint of movement. No doubt these men were trained, and with all that had happened, they were bound to be on edge.

Walker followed her over to the door, scanning each direction before darting out. They crept down the hall, scrambling into a closet when footsteps sounded in an adjoining room. Blair had to practically crawl into Walker's arms in order for him to close the door, but they managed, holding their breath as two soldiers marched past.

A few seconds to allow the footfalls to fade, then they were out and zipping through the kitchen. Thankful it was still early enough no one was rooting around for food or making coffee. Blair stopped long enough to grab some corn starch out of a cupboard, before they were tiptoeing past the main living room, keeping low. Praying the four men chatting inside didn't turn around for the two heartbeats she and Walker would have been visible.

Making it to a set of stairs gave her a bit of a boost. That they might be able to search the rest of the house without dodging a dozen armed men. Assuming the only ones awake were either outside or in that room.

Walker motioned for her to take the lead, probably thinking he could block a bullet aimed her way if any of those men caught them creeping up the stairs. Which was daft because losing him like that would kill her as surely as any bullet.

They made the landing without anyone popping out of a room or opening fire — were halfway to the first door, when it opened. That Leland prat stepping out.

His eyes widened, as his mouth hinged open on a startled gasp. He managed something that sounded like, "Wait, I'm not…" before Blair was moving.

Two bounding steps, then she was pushing one foot off the wall, using her hand as a brace on his shoulder before she had her thighs around his neck. A tilt and a shift, and he was down, sprawled across the hallway.

Walker was at her side a breath later, grabbing the man by the arms and dragging him back inside his room. Closing the door a moment before another opened up. Footsteps echoed along the corridor, starting and stopping as if someone was checking all the rooms. Looking for something.

Someone.

Walker heaved the man up, somehow managing to get him in a fireman carry before moving behind the door. Flattening himself as much as possible against the wall. Blair made a run for the bed, scooting under it just as the handle rattled, then turned, the door swinging open. Stopping with the other side grazing Leland's arms.

Blair waited, ready to jump out and open fire if needed, but whoever it was grunted before the door slammed closed, loud steps walking away.

Walker signaled her to wait, covering the short distance to the bed then placing Leland on it. The man groaned, already rousing from slamming headfirst into the floor. Walker didn't speak, just drew his weapon, keeping it point-blank from Leland's face as the guy blinked, then inhaled, glancing from Walker over to Blair, then back.

Walker held his other hand up to his mouth. "Breathe too loud, and I'll kill you."

Leland looked at Walker's gun. "Silenced? That's not standard fare… Captain Pierce."

Walker grinned, seemingly unfazed by the fact Leland knew his name. "I'm retired. And we aren't hunting the usual fare."

Leland nodded, swiping at his head a few times, checking for blood on his fingertips, before easing back on his elbows. "That was one hell of a move, Hughes. Much savvier than the punches you threw in the four by four. Though, after that jump… I guess I shouldn't be surprised by anything. Like showing up here. Bollocks move."

Blair inched closer, keeping half her focus on the door. Ready to shoot if it so much as rattled, again. "Let's just say, I'm highly motivated. Now, you can either answer my questions, or I can kill you. I honestly don't know why I didn't just let Walker cap you to start with."

"Going off-script is more Gretta's move, yeah? Not yours."

"I'm adapting, seeing as you were already planning on killing me. Now, where does McClaren keep all his files? And don't start with how you don't know. You've obviously been working with him for a while in order to set all this up."

"Months, actually. Ever since we realized he wasn't quite as dead as your ex-director claimed. Pity your little unauthorized JSOG team didn't clean up that mess as thoroughly as you'd thought."

"We brought down Oliver Poppy. We'd hoped that was enough." Blair looked over at Walker, then back. "But I'll bite… Who's we? And don't say MI5 because we both know that's a load of rubbish."

Leland's mouth kicked up. "I knew as soon as I discovered who your new mates were, you'd be the one to blow my cover. Damn Yanks. They rub off, and not always in a good way. Especially ex-military." He nodded at Walker. "Were you and all your mates really Special Forces?"

Walker didn't budge an inch. "Blair asked you a question."

"Perhaps I should have properly introduced myself. Agent Duncan Leland. Interpol."