It was a strange situation: all six foreign men and Marcus dressed in suits, looking as though they’d just come from a business meeting. Maybe they had—a meeting about the business of terrorism. How many men in custom suits actually brandished assault rifles?
“Why?” Tate ground out as one of the men bound his hands behind him with twine. “Why in the fuck would you do this? Look at me, dammit. Look me in the face, Marcus, and tell me why you’re doing this!”
Marcus didn’t comply. He continued to look at Lara with lifeless eyes as he moved close to them, waiting for the other men to move away before he spoke English quietly to her and Tate. He kept his voice low, obviously wanting the conversation to be only between him and his brother. “Money. Everything is all about money, Tate. I’ve found out there’s a fortune to be made in this business.”
“Bullshit. You don’t care about the money!” Tate exploded. “What about Dad?”
“He’s dead,” Marcus replied. “Life goes on.”
“You don’t give a shit about money. We all have so much we don’t know what to do with it now.”
“It’s never enough. Money is also power,” Marcus answered flatly as he nodded at Lara. “Who is this?”
Her hands now bound tightly behind her back, Lara glared at Marcus. “I’m your worst nightmare, Colter.”
Marcus moved close enough to touch her. “Ah…another soul who is out to save the world? Law enforcement of some kind, I assume.” He finally looked over at Tate.
“Don’t even fucking touch her,” Tate growled. “Let her go. She has nothing to do with this.”
Lara knew Marcus wouldn’t believe that for a minute after he’d seen how she was armed, and she wasn’t about to leave Tate here after what had been found, even if Marcus would let her go.
“I want her before she dies.” One of the men who held an assault rifle grunted in a heavy accent as the group came back to join Marcus again.
Just the thought of any one of these men touching her made her want to gag—and that included Marcus. She wanted to kill him just for the way he’d betrayed his family, much less his country.
One. Two. Three.
Lara counted the gun barrels that were aimed at her—three men with guns, four unarmed, including Marcus. And she and Tate had both been restrained. She liked to think she could handle anything as an agent, but her odds of surviving this situation were slim unless the Denver team of agents got inside the hangar pretty damn soon.
She watched as one of the unarmed men went and picked up Tate’s blade, opened the knife portion and quickly split her turtleneck from the neck to the hem.
“Touch her and I’ll fucking kill you,” Tate bellowed furiously. He moved forward to head-butt the man who ripped her clothing.
The guy with the knife recovered quickly and went for Tate. Lara screamed, and kicked out with her leg as the man rushed Tate with his own blade. She deflected him, but the knife caught Tate in the shoulder. Both of them had been divested of their outerwear when they’d been stripped of their weapons. Tate had very little protection from the blade in his thin T-shirt, and the stab wound was immediately opened and bleeding.
Marcus moved forward and grabbed the man who had assaulted Tate by the collar of his suit jacket. “Are we here to make an inspection of the latest shipment or not?”
The terrorist shrugged off Marcus’s grip and spoke sharply to the other two men who weren’t holding a weapon. He must have wanted them to check out the explosives, because the men entered the storage room.
“I’ll watch them, if you don’t mind. Our discovery is going to require a change of plans now,” Marcus commented blandly as he looked at the man who was obviously in charge of the other terrorists, the man who had gone for Tate.
Marcus didn’t wait for an answer before he followed the two men into the storage room that contained the explosives. He obviously didn’t care whether he got the leader’s agreement or not.
Lara moved closer to Tate, trying to see how bad the wound on his shoulder was. It bled so profusely that she couldn’t tell. He was losing blood, but his expression was one of fury rather than pain.
“Are you okay?” Tate whispered fiercely.
She nodded. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’ve survived a hell of a lot worse. Can you untie me? I’m working on the knots, but it will go faster if you can help.”
Lara was already trying to move slightly behind Tate while the men were occupied; the leader spoke rapidly to the men who held the assault weapons. She tried to turn discreetly to try to help Tate loosen his bound hands.
“Move away from him.” The leader with the knife was back in front of them again in a heartbeat.
Dammit!
Lara moved obediently, not wanting Tate to be punished any further for trying to rescue her. She should have been more prepared for this scenario, should have watched for anyone to enter the hangar. But she’d made a tragic mistake: she’d gotten distracted emotionally. Her heart had broken as she watched Tate’s sense of betrayal play out in front of her.
The leader had a punishing grip on her arm, and as she jerked to pull away, he grasped her by the hair and dislodged the clip that held the unruly locks away from her face. She winced in pain as he tugged hard to bring her in front of him, and then pushed on her skull. “Down. You will suck me now. If you do anything that doesn’t feel good, your boyfriend is dead.”
Boyfriend? Did he not know that Tate was Marcus’s brother? She spoke very little Arabic, so she hadn’t been able to make out the rapid-fire conversation Marcus had with the terrorists. Although this man obviously spoke some English, she didn’t know about the others.
Nobody except me heard Marcus’s conversation with Tate. It’s weird that he didn’t identify Tate as his brother.
Lara went down to her knees as the bastard tugged hard on her hair and forced her head down with the other hand. She gagged just from the thought of putting this murderous asshole’s penis in her mouth. It was her nature to fight, but Tate’s life was at stake, and he was already wounded. She’d do whatever she had to do to stall for time, even if she’d rather put her skull in his balls with every ounce of strength she had right now.
He fumbled with the fly on his pants with one hand, while he held her steady with her hair wrapped around his other beefy paw.
“Lara, goddammit, no!” Tate howled. He moved to lift his leg to take down Lara’s tormenter.