Running Hot by Helenkay Dimon Read Free Book Online Page B

as his mind clicked into gear. They had one shot at this. Take out both guys with minimum noise. That was the plan . . . well, it was his plan.
    The tapping pattern clicked down from five. When she reached one, he hit the ground. Dropping to a crouch, he let his knife fly as her hand rose. The blade flipped through the air and landed in the taller guy’s shoulder. He let out a squeal as his shooting arm dropped to his side.
    Ward didn’t wait. He crashed into the guy before he could raise the gun again. The forest erupted with noise as their feet trampled the fallen leaves and the tall one hit the ground on his back. Ward pulled out the blade and was on him in less than a second. With the handle of the knife between his teeth, Ward grabbed the man’s head and smashed it against the ground. Once, twice, then his eyes rolled back in his head and his body turned limp.
    Grunts sounded behind him, and Ward spun around, ready for the next fight. Tasha was already locked in battle with the smaller guy. Her kick smacked into the guy’s chest just as Ward scrambled to his feet. Off balance, the guy fumbled for his gun and started yelling. The sound cut off when Ward wrapped an arm around the guy’s neck—put it right in the crook of his elbow—and squeezed. Three seconds, and the guy crumpled into a heap next to his friend.
    A cursory check of pockets revealed a decided lack of identifying information. No surprise there. If these two were mercenaries—they certainly had some training, just not enough—they knew not to possess anything that could trace back to actual names.
    Ward grabbed a radio off the small guy and an extra gun. He handed the latter to Tasha. If he had more than one, so should she.
    â€œNice kick.” By a very impressive leg. That was the type of agility he could admire and did. That and her ability to fight without so much as breathing hard.
    Everything this woman did was hot.
    After a quick check, she took the weapon and slipped it into her pocket. “So, I can see that you do fight when you have to.”
    â€œDid you have any doubts?”
    She didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
    Well, that was annoying. “I’m going to see this as a glass-half-full situation.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œIn your eyes I don’t have anywhere to go but up.” He tried to keep the words light, but the sentiment behind them was all too real. He’d never had anyone doubt his judgment or abilities before and he didn’t like it now.
    But on one level they did understand each other. After that kiss, maybe more than one. They worked the same way.
    â€œIs your head okay?” she asked out of nowhere. “I need to know you can handle this.”
    â€œDespite your efforts, I’m fine. Hurts like hell, but I’ll live.”
    She frowned. “I guess that’s good.”
    Without checking with each other, they started securing the scene. Each one took a man and conducted a final search of pockets and the area. The next step would be hiding the bodies and covering tracks. If they couldn’t come up with a solid plan, they’d have to move from quieting the mercenaries to killing them. Ward didn’t relish that.
    A year ago he witnessed a bloodbath on the job. Stood there as armed gunmen emptied out a refugee camp. The dirt ran with blood by the time the gunfire stopped. Bodies piled upon bodies. Women and children thrown around like garbage. Ward took a vow of humanity that day. Sticking to it challenged him every fucking day on the job.
    So many orders. So much death. Years of working with one side in some country only to take an abrupt turn and undermine the very people he’d helped put in power a few years later. It was a stupid, endless, and necessary game. He just grew weary of playing.
    Tigana was just one example. Having seen the file with the information about the torture he inflicted on his own people, Ward knew the man needed