Extreme Danger (McClouds & Friends #5)(142)

“Grow up. You’re a married man. Haven’t you seen tits before?”

“You use your tits the way a ninja assassin uses nunchuks,” Davy complained. “I don’t like to take a direct hit with no warning.”

“Bullshit,” she said. “Typical, projecting your lust onto an objectified woman.”

“Not any objectified woman,” Davy growled. “Just you, Tam.”

“Could we skip the feminist crap?” Nick asked tersely.

“Could you gentlemen give me some space?” Tam fussed. “I have to make myself look good, and your combined bulk is getting in my way.”

The five men crowded back against the walls as Tam rummaged through her bag of tricks. They were packed into the van, what with Tam, Davy, Connor, Seth, Nick and Alex Aaro. Once Aaro had heard the words “kids” and “organ pirates” mentioned in the same sentence, he’d insisted on coming along for the ride. They had a plan. Full of holes, risky by its very improvised nature, but it was a plan.

Mathes’s car was blipping away in a parking lot outside a large, nondescript complex of new brick buildings surrounded by a chain-link fence topped with razor wire and with God knew what kind of alarm system. Covert recon in Seth and Davy’s thermal camo cloaks had revealed a prefab hut twenty meters from the big automatic gate, manned by four guys, according to Davy and Seth’s thermal imaging goggles. There had to be more in the main building complex, and probably still more on patrol.

Tam yanked out a tangle of silvery latex straps, and proceeded to stuff her breasts into them. She rummaged again, pulled out two crescents that looked like bags of silicon gel, and wadded them into the base of the tit-web-slings, transforming her perfect C-cup tits into larger but equally perfect D-cups.

“So that’s how girls do it,” Seth said. “I’ve always wondered.”

Tam yanked a silver latex skirt out of the bag, and a thong. “Gentlemen, fair warning,” she said. “Anyone who does not want to see my cunt,”—she shot a glance at Davy—“close your eyes now. Anyone who does want to see my cunt, be aware that you will pay dearly for the privilege at some later date. When you least expect it.”

“With what?” Alex Aaro sounded fascinated.

“I like to leave it a mystery,” she said. “Your life? Your firstborn? Your immortal soul? It depends on my mood.”

“Your balls for a necklace,” Nick told Aaro.

“I am always looking for new materials for my wearable weaponry lines,” Tam said. “But shriveled testicles aren’t that pretty.” She punctuated her statement by yanking off her black briefs.

The men turned their heads so fast they risked whiplash.

They waited. “Is it safe?” Nick asked. “Can we open our eyes?”

“Safety is an illusion,” Tam said. “Is any man ever safe with me?”

Nick opened one slitted eye. She was more or less decent, if you could call a skirt that short decent. It stretched over her perfect ass like plastic wrap as she bent over, adjusting a blond wig. She flung the hair back, slicked crimson paint over her lips, yanked on silver boots with four-inch heels. She grabbed an aerosol tube and sprayed herself with a choking cloud of glitter that made them all cough. When the sparkling fog cleared, she gave them a dazzling smile. “How do I look?”

No one dared to answer. She looked like a Vegas showgirl about to take the stage. She looked like a million bucks. She looked like trouble incarnate. Nick shook his head. “I don’t like this,” he muttered.

“Too f*cking bad,” Tam replied. “It’s the best chance we have. The one weapon no man is ever completely defended against is femininity.” She slanted a peek at Nick. “As our friend Nikolai can attest, hmm?”

The other guys winced. Nick clenched his jaw and let it pass.

Tam pulled out gem-studded clip-on earrings with a tiny receiver attached to one, which she tucked into her ear. A matching wrist unit was incorporated in a bracelet made of white gold and semi-precious stones. But she didn’t stop there. Nick watched her don a chain with a mother of pearl egg-shaped thing studded with jewels and swirls of gold. A small, pearl-tipped round pin stuck out of the top of it, that looked like a— “Holy shit,” he said. “Is that thing a grenade?”

“Hooray! He can be taught!” Tam said. “I’m sorry your women aren’t here, boys. They’re the ones who really appreciate my genius.”

“We’re appreciating it, but could you hurry the f*ck up, Tam?”

Tam wrinkled her nose. “Never rush a woman.” She draped herself with several more pieces of jewelry, the practical defense applications of which were anybody’s guess, yanked the skirt up, and strapped on two custom-designed nylon net thigh holsters, one for a Walther PPK, and the other for Davy’s mini dart gun.

“There,” she said. “Now I’m done.”

Nick ground his teeth as he looked at the shimmering expanse of bare chest, thigh, belly. The rest of them had bulletproof vests, gas masks, goggles, comm equipment, thermal cloaks, kick-ass firepower.

Tam was waltzing into the jaws of death practically naked. It wasn’t right. It made him twitch. But he couldn’t think of a better plan.

Tam slid out of the van, fluttering her fingers. “Good luck, boys.”