Lopez owns the military stationed anywhere near his stronghold. Also the police, Mack reminded. Consider them the enemy.
Roger that, Gideon acknowledged.
Mack wanted them in and out of the village without being seen—or heard. The two military men presented far more of a challenge than those by the panel truck. If the men meeting them were enemies, there was no doubt they’d wind up dead in the street.
Javier gave the exact same low whistle and when the man turned toward him; a little light from the tiny crescent moon spilled over him. Joe Spagnola. Javier breathed the identity to the others.
Kane felt the coils in this stomach ease. Joe Spagnola was a GhostWalker familiar to their team. He’d guarded Jaimie for months before the team had returned to San Francisco. He stayed without moving, covering the man by the back of the truck. He was a stranger, but the odds were looking better than ever.
There was a whispered conversation between Javier and Joe before Joe walked Javier around the panel truck to introduce him to the man guarding the back. Javier kept his body away from both men, leaving a clear shot for Kane. Kane wasn’t all that worried. Joe and his friend needed to be careful around Javier. He could kill both in a split second, erupting into violence without warning. Still, he never took his gaze from the two men. Another brief conversation ensued, and the second man stepped up to the truck to open the large door.
Malichai Fortunes, Mack. He’s got a hard-ass rep, but he’s the real deal, Javier reported. He’s a member of Team Four.
Kane eased his body closer. Look alive, Gideon.
I’m on the driver.
This was the most dangerous moment of all. Javier had to step up to the back of the truck and inspect the interior to be certain it wasn’t a trap. They would ride in that truck to a safe house as close as possible to the villa. Most of those in town were employed directly by Lopez or their livelihood depended on his goodwill. His team wouldn’t find many allies, and most people would gladly turn them over to the head of the cartel and reap a generous reward.
Damn it, two Rovers suddenly got interested, Gideon informed them.
Rhianna, Rose, take care of them, Mack instructed.
Both women hastily peeled off their jackets to reveal clingy tops. Rhianna’s generous br**sts were framed beautifully. Rose looked like a sexy little pixie as she threw her semiautomatic to Jacob Princeton, the GhostWalker closest to her. Rhianna shook out her hair, pulled out a bottle of tequila from her pack, and tossed her gear to Jacob as well. She sauntered out from behind the building, her h*ps swaying, Rose beside her. The two women laughed, their voices melodic, seductive, so that the two military men turned their attention toward the sound. Almost at once the two women paused, as if just spotting the two military men.
Instantly they changed direction to intercept the two men, whispering and laughing. Rose allowed Rhianna to take the lead. She wasn’t used to using feminine wiles as a weapon, although they’d certainly covered that in her training—but not like Rhianna. She beckoned the men to her with a crook of her finger, looking so tempting Rose was stunned. She was the consummate actress. If Rose didn’t know better, she would have thought Rhianna was either an experienced prostitute or she was madly in love with one of the two men and determined to entice him to have sex right there out in the open.
Rhianna put her hand on the nearest one’s shoulder and slowly, sensually, circled the two men. Her lips were parted, her eyes devouring them. She whispered something softly in Spanish. Rose barely caught the words, nearly as mesmerized as the two men. “Finally. Two real men. We want to party. Come with us. Please. I need a real man between my legs for once.” Her voice dripped with sensuality. With hunger. There was no real way for a man to resist that smoky, needy voice.
They followed Rhianna right into the small spaces between two buildings. She turned, offering her mouth to the first one, while Rose crowded close to his partner. They struck at the exact same moment, shoving the syringes against the exposed necks and slowly lowering the bodies to the ground. Rhianna was all business, breaking open the tequila bottle and pouring it liberally on their clothes. She crouched beside them and opened shirts, and unzipped pants, jerking one pair down around the man’s knees. The guns were laid next to them as if forgotten in the dirt, the empty tequila bottle inches from the one with his pants up.
Rhianna was thorough. There was no doubt that both men would believe they’d partied heavily. The drug in their systems would give them a blazing headache, simulating a hangover.
Lucas, we’re good, Rhianna confirmed as she straightened.
Rose was shocked that Lucas had managed to enter the alley behind them and was part of the shadows. She hadn’t seen or heard him.
Rhianna grinned at her. “I didn’t see him either. He’s a ghost. We all are.”
Rose smiled at Lucas. “You’re good.”
He looked a little embarrassed by the compliment. All clear, Mack.
The three of them drifted back up the street, keeping out of sight, aware of Javier standing in harm’s way. He stepped up to the truck and peered inside, a sweeping visual, leaving himself exposed as he did so. When he turned giving the okay signal, his gaze sought and found Rhianna in the darkness. Her chin tilted, but she didn’t break stride.
Javier continued around to the front of the truck, approaching the driver from behind. The man stepped carefully out of the truck, hands in plain sight. There was a small exchange. We’re good, Top. Wyatt Fontenot. I know his brother, Gator.
Didn’t know he was a GhostWalker.
He’s got the mark, and Joe vouches for both of them.
The mark, Rose had come to find out, pushing down the urge to scratch the itch of her new tattoos, was simply the symbols used by the GhostWalkers. A triangle with three distinct symbols inside, signifying: shadow knights protect against evil forces, using psychic power, courage, and honor. She also had, like every member of the special teams, the GhostWalker crest with the Latin words, The night is ours. The ink was a special one that could only be seen by those with night vision—something every true GhostWalker had.
We’re a go. Gideon, stay sharp.
I’ve got you covered, Top.
Javier took a step farther out into the street, a seemingly casual move, but he put himself in a better position to cover the driver and Malichai. Mack signaled his team forward, and they swept into the street, a rush of dark shadows, climbing into the back of the truck.
Kane held position in the alley watching the street, another pair of eyes to keep his team safe. Rose, Rhianna, and Lucas joined the others, easily jumping into the back. Javier went up and over the hood to the roof, lying flat. Kane followed, leaping onto the roof and settling down, facing the back, his semiautomatic ready.