“Come forward!” the man commanded from the hall. Obviously, he was the one in charge. Mason filed that bit of information away for future use.
Alex did as instructed, stopping only when she pulled even with Mason. He turned so they both faced their assailants, and the move had his arm brushing hers.
It broke his heart to find her skin clammy and cold, to feel her fingers stiff with fear when she clasped his hand to…
Those aren’t her fingers, he realized with a start as she stealthily transferred the KA-BAR knife he kept on his nightstand into his hand.
She must’ve palmed it while she was holding up the sheet to get dressed. Trust her to keep her head about her even with a full-auto pointed her way.
Beautiful, brilliant woman, he thought, pride filling his chest.
If he wasn’t in love with her before, he fell a little in love with her right then and there.
“Come out!” Shadow Man commanded. “Slowly. No sudden moves.”
Mason concealed the KA-BAR knife along the length of his forearm by cupping the hilt in the tips of his fingers. He kept his entire arm pressed close to his side, hoping their attackers would mistake his stiffness for fear.
When they made it into the dark hall and down the stairs without the balaclava twins spying his weapon, he heaved a sigh of relief. Shuffling onto the porch, glad to hear Meat still going crazy somewhere close because it meant that his dog was alive and kicking, he watched and waited for one of his enemies to make a false move.
There was a saying in the spec-ops community.The more you sweat in training, the less you bleed in combat.He wasn’t as good as Wolf when it came to knife play. But after hundreds of hours of practice, he could certainly hold his own. All he needed was—
The thought screeched to a halt when they were escorted down the front steps and the scene by the hammock met his eyes.
Now he knew what had happened to Uncle John and Chrissy. Two men had taken them hostage. They were on their knees in the sand, arms dangling at their sides, eyes round and reflecting the moonlight as they stared at him in fear.
A thin line of blood trickled from a cut on Uncle John’s forehead.
“Y’okay?” Mason asked, any optimism he’d harbored that he could single-handedly take out their assailants slowly leaking from his ass.
Two against one was doable. But four against one?
He’d spent most of his life weighing the risks and playing the odds. Which meant he knew both were stacked against him.Wayagainst him.
Hell is empty and all the devils are here, he thought, the grip of the KA-BAR no longer a comfort in his hand.
“Gettin’ dumped out of the hammock and held at gunpoint isn’t my favorite way to wake up,” Uncle John said. “But, yeah. I’m fine.”
Mason turned his gaze to Chrissy. All she seemed to be able to manage was a jerky nod.
Alive and mostly unharmed.That’s something.
“On your knees!” Shadow Man ordered, jabbing the end of his rifle hard into Mason’s kidney. Beside him, Alex squeaked when the same was done to her. Mason would swear red edged into his vision.
“Dontcha fucking hurt her!” he snarled, even as his knees hit the cool sand.
“Or what?” A voice sounded from the shadows of the porch.
Craning his head around, Mason watched a fifth man slowly make his way toward the group. Maybe it was the eerie light from the nearly full moon, but Mason would swear there was something strange about the way the guy moved. It was careful. Deliberate.
Injured?Mason wondered.Or…old?
The new arrival said something to the asshole from the hallway. Mason didn’t speak Farsi, but he recognized it when he heard it. A chill streaked down his naked back despite the sweat dewing his skin.
As soon as he’d seen the nose of the AR-15, he’d assumed the intruders were more Iranians. Now, he knew for sure.
What the fuck is this?
He had a feeling he was about to find out. And an evenstrongerfeeling he wasn’t going to like what he learned.
