Full Throttle (Black Knights Inc. #7)(21)



“It is,” she stressed. “Just like our hotel room numbers were classified. Just like the covert locations we occupy while on duty are classified.” Covert positions because Abby hated drawing attention to herself, and nothing said look at me! like a group of guys and gals in suits standing sentry by her side or beside her door. And since Abby was such a sweetie pie, so kind and generous and flat-out likeable, Penni and the rest of the Secret Security agents had gone out of their way to accommodate her need for a bit of normalcy. Unfortunately, covert positions left them alone and vulnerable. Case in point…the slit throats. Christ! “Just like this whole assignment is classified!” she finished, her voice breaking on a hard edge. Okay, and her hysteria was beginning to bust through to the surface, opening cracks in her demeanor.

“There’s a leak or a mole inside the Secret Service,” Dan said. The thought was enough to make Penni—already close to blowing chunks—press a hand against her rebelling stomach. “It’s either that or…” He glanced sharply at Steady. “You don’t think this has anything to do with—”

“I seriously doubt it.” Steady was quick to shake his head, and Penni had to bite her tongue to keep from asking who or what they were talking about. “How would he have gotten his hands on the Intel from a different department?” Okay, so it was a who, a…he to be more precise.

“True.” Dan nodded. “So, you’re thinking total inside job here.”

“If I were a betting man,” Steady said, “which I am. It’s entirely possible that Intel we were given about Caroline being the target was simply a red herring. Used to throw us off the trail.”

“Mmph,” Dan grunted. “When I spoke to the president, he said no similar attempts have been made to snatch Abby’s sister. But they’re gonna take her to a secure location anyway.” Gonna, wanna, coulda, shoulda…Penni wondered if Dan’s penchant for slamming two words together was a Detroit thing or simply a Dan thing.

“Good.” Steady nodded, having moved back to his position beside the bed. He checked yet another clip before stuffing it into the backpack. And that was five fully loaded magazines by her count. So definitely not a hike he was planning. “How did el Jefe sound?”

El Jefe? Just how close to the president were these guys?

Dan shook his head. “About like you’d think. Pissed. Ready to send in the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines. Scared even though he was doing his damndest to hide it from me.”

Okay, so, close. Which meant they were, indeed, blacker than black. Probably the president’s very own beck-and-call boys. Years ago, she’d heard rumors about such a group of men. Now she’d wager her entire 401K she was sitting in a room with two of them.

“No ransom demands yet?” Steady asked.

“It’s too soon.” Dan watched Steady attach a Nalgene water bottle to the outside of his pack with a bungee cord. “I suspect he’s gonna hear something when the kidnappers have Abby in a secure location.”

Steady glanced at Dan. “But we’re going to find her and take them out before that happens. Am I right, amigo?”

“Bet your ass.” Dan’s grin looked like an executioner’s right before the ax fell.

Penni couldn’t stay quiet a second longer. These guys really knew how to put the big in ambiguous—as in big, cryptic A-holes. “How in Christ’s name do you propose we do that?” she demanded, pointing again at the iPad’s screen for emphasis.

“Simple,” Steady said. “While we wait on the SEALs, you and Dan will check each and every one of those signals.” He spoke while digging inside a giant camouflage duffel bag, transferring some of its contents into his backpack. “It’s possible the kidnappers didn’t know where all the transmitters were. Or maybe they allowed her to keep her underwear or shoes. We can’t leave any stone unturned.”

“Me and Dan?” Penni lifted a brow. “And what will you be doing?” Besides getting ready to start World War III with those five full-to-the-brim clips?

“I’ll be following the other set of signals.”

“Huh?” Okay, so not her finest retort ever. But, really, with the horror of her coworkers’ deaths, the guilt of being the lone survivor, and the fear of what was happening to Abby all rolled up in a big ol’ suffocating lump that was located center stage in her throat, she considered it a win that she was able to form words at all.

Steady zipped the backpack and threaded his tan, tattooed arms through the straps. It occurred to her that at some point—probably when she and Dan excused themselves to slip across the hall and retrieve their clothes, you know…because running around in their skivvies was so professional…not—he’d cleaned off the blood that’d coated his chest and hands and changed into a pair of camouflage cargo pants, some green lace-up jungle boots, and an army-green tank top. So he looked professional. No, come to think of it, that didn’t quite capture it. Menacing, maybe? Okay, that was closer. Threatening… The word whispered through her head, and she admitted that pretty much summed it up. Carlos “Steady” Soto looked completely, irrefutably, unmistakably threatening.

Goose bumps peppered her arms and caused the hairs on the back of her neck to lift, especially when he fixed his piercing black eyes on her again. “I supplied Abby with a set of faux diamond earrings embedded with high-powered transmitters.”

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