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  She coughed. “Yeah. You?”

  “I’m good. But we need to get out of here.”

  He looked around, trying to orient himself in the hazy smoke-filled mess that had been the main section of the helicopter. It took a second for him to figure out which way was up—the Seahawk had landed on its side, blocking the door he’d recently tossed the hybrid out. But it didn’t matter because the whole front of the helicopter was gone. It must have been ripped off as they’d crashed through the trees. He didn’t want to think about what had happened to the pilot and copilot.

  Declan turned to see what remained of the other occupants only to find Kendra already checking on the two wounded marines. Declan crawled over the debris to kneel beside her. What he saw turned his stomach. The hybrid’s claws had gotten to one marine, while the impact had gotten to the other. Declan knew their deaths had been anything but painless.

  Noise came from the back of the helicopter and Declan lifted his head to see the two local cops slowly coming their way. Declan got them moving in the right direction, then came back to help Kendra pull the DEA agent out of his seat. The guy was unconscious and had a dark purple bruise across his face and temple. He didn’t look good, but Declan carried him outside and gently set him down on the ground anyway. The man’s heart beat with an unsteady rhythm. Declan swore. He hadn’t had a chance to learn the guy’s name, and now it looked like he never would.

  He heard a crashing sound behind him and looked over his shoulder to see Kendra dragging out one of the dead marines. When he moved to help her, she waved him off.

  “I’ve got him,” she said. “Go get the other guy.”

  Declan nodded and ducked inside. The helicopter might not have caught fire, but it still didn’t seem right to leave them in there.

  He’d just gotten the second marine positioned respectfully away from the downed bird when he heard more noise coming from the wreck. Kendra was tossing stuff out of the helicopter—weapons, ammo, a rucksack, extra canteens, what looked like ration bars, and a first-aid kit. Okay, it was official. She was a whole lot calmer in a stressful situation than he’d ever imagined she would be. If he wasn’t already hopelessly in love with her, he would be now.

  A few moments later, she came stumbling out, coughing and hacking. Declan grabbed one of the canteens and held it out to her.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded, taking a big gulp of water, then put the cap back on the canteen. “How far away did we get?”

  “Not far enough,” he said. “We flew farther than I thought before the crash, maybe two miles. But I can already hear them coming. They’ll probably be able to hone right in on the smoke coming off the crash.”

  “Then we need to get moving.”

  As Kendra started gathering up the gear she’d tossed out of the smoldering wreck, Declan checked on the other survivors. The two locals were whispering to each other as he approached the injured DEA agent. He could hear them clearly, but they were speaking in Spanish, so it really didn’t matter that he could overhear everything they said. But while he didn’t understand the words, he got the gist of their tone—they were scared to death and wondering if staying with Declan and Kendra was their best bet.

  He knelt down beside the DEA agent, preparing to carry him—at least until they had enough time to rig up some kind of travois or litter—but the man was already dead. Between all the blood he’d lost, shock, and head trauma, there was no way of telling what had done him in.

  Declan pulled the DEA agent’s rain jacket off to cover his face. Hopefully the soldiers and hybrids wouldn’t disturb the man’s body or those of the dead marines. But it was anyone’s guess what hybrids considered an acceptable way to honor the dead.

  “Where the hell are they going?” Kendra asked.

  Declan spun around just in time to see the two police officers slip into a dense section of jungle and disappear.

  “I guess they figure they have better odds on their own than staying here with a monster as bad as the things trying to kill them.”

  Kendra swore and shouldered one of the packs loaded with extra supplies. “What about the pilot and copilot? Should we go look for them?”

  He winced as he envisioned the violence that had ripped apart the front of the Seahawk. Neither of those men were still alive. “No. Come on, we need to be well away from this place before the hybrids show up.”

  Declan shouldered the other pack and the M4, then took off at a steady trot he hoped Kendra would be able to hold for a while. He didn’t really have a plan, other than to keep both of them alive long enough to get out of the immediate area so he’d have a chance to come up with something better. Right now, that was about the best he could hope for. If the rest of his team were here, it would be different. But with just the two of them going up against what seemed like an impossible number of trained soldiers and hybrid killing machines, he wasn’t holding out much hope.

  Chapter 3

  Angelo Rios inhaled deeply, almost groaning in appreciation as the aroma from the grill wafted across the terrace. His former captain might not be in charge of their Special Forces A-Team anymore, but the man still knew how to take care of them. Landon and Ivy had literally emptied the freezer for him and fellow Special Forces operator Derek Mickens. And the weather today was perfect for grilling.

  “So, why’s the army sending you guys to a place like Tajikistan?” Clayne asked. “Not exactly a name you see in the news a lot.”

  Angelo grabbed another handful of tortilla chips and sat back in his chair. He’d asked his first sergeant the same thing when the operational order had come down.

  “Tajikistan’s proximity to Afghanistan makes it an ideal location for terrorist safe havens,” he explained. “According to the State Department, the amount of fighters, weapons, and drugs flowing back and forth across the border finally got bad enough for them to ask for help. We’re going in to help conduct counterterrorism training.”

  “How long are you guys going to be there?” Landon asked as he flipped the burgers, steaks, and chicken on the grill—in that order.

  “Probably two or three months, but it could be as long as six.” Derek frowned down at his bottle of beer. “So, why is Kendra in Costa Rica again?”

  Angelo almost laughed. Derek never was a subtle guy. While the medic liked hanging out with Landon as much as Angelo did, Derek had mainly come on the impromptu vacation with the hope of seeing Kendra again. According to him, they’d hit it off at Landon and Ivy’s wedding.

  Landon moved the chicken to a cooler part of the grill. “I think it’s the boss’s way of showing his appreciation for all the hard work she does for him.”

  Derek frowned. “By sending her to Costa Rica? Couldn’t he just give her a few extra days of leave?”

  Landon chuckled. “John probably would have, but Kendra has her own idea of fun. She wanted to go.”

  “I don’t think fun had anything to do with it.” Angelo grinned as he reached for his bottle of beer. “She probably heard Derek was coming up here and figured getting out of town was the best way to avoid having to tell him she’s not interested.”

  Derek gave him a sour look. “You just don’t want to admit that Kendra and I made a connection. Admit it. We’re meant to be together.”

  Angelo almost choked on his beer. “You made a connection? All you did was dance with her, dude.”

  “There’s dancing, and then there’s dancing, Tex-Mex.” Derek shook his head with a snort. “Why am I bothering? You’re not even qualified to evaluate my relationship with Kendra. You’ve never connected with a woman in your life.”

  That wasn’t exactly true. Angelo had connected with a lot of women over the years, just not in the way Derek was talking about. But that was by choice. He’d learned long ago that women, long-term relationships, and Army Special Forces didn’t mix. Never had and never would. He’d seen firsthand what endless deployments and dangerous missions could do to a wife a Special Forces operator le
ft behind. Every time his father shipped out, his mother had died a little inside until it finally destroyed her. Angelo had vowed then to never get married, or even involved seriously with a woman until he got out of the military. Since he intended to make a career of being a soldier, that was going to be a long time.

  Landon opened the sliding glass door and leaned in. “Protein’s just about ready out here, hon.”

  “We’re almost done in here, too,” Ivy called.

  “Keep your shirts on,” said Clayne’s fiancée, Danica Beckett. “Or don’t. Ivy and I won’t complain.”

  The two women laughed at the joke, while Clayne let out a snort. Angelo still wasn’t sure how the gruff wolf shifter—man, it was going to take a while to get used to the idea that there were people who had animal DNA—had landed an amazing woman like Danica.

  “When are you two getting married?” Angelo asked.

  “I’d get married today, but Danica says we have to do it right.” Clayne grabbed another beer out of the cooler by the deck railing. “By that, she means get married in a church.”

  Landon straddled the bottom of a lounge chair and sat down. He’d always worn his hair shorter than the rest of the guys on the team, but since going to work for the DCO, he’d let it grow some. “Isn’t that where most people get married?”

  “Yeah, I guess, but I don’t do churches.” The words were practically a growl. “I thought we’d just go to Vegas or something.”

  Derek shook his head. “Man, you know less about women than Angelo does.”

  Clayne grunted. “Don’t even get me started on the other stuff. Between invitations, gift registries, flowers, cake, and DJs, my head is about to explode.”

  Landon chuckled and started to reply when his cell phone rang. He dug it out of his pocket and put it to his ear. “Donovan.”

  As Landon moved to the other side of the terrace to take the call, Angelo opened his mouth to ask Clayne if Danica was going to make him wear a tux to the wedding, but closed it when he realized the wolf shifter was staring intently at Landon, almost as if he could hear what the person on the other end of the line was saying from fifteen feet away. Of course, if half of what Landon had told him about shifters was true, Clayne probably could hear what the person was saying.

  Angelo looked closer at his former captain and noticed that Landon’s mouth had tightened into that familiar grim line whenever there was trouble. Whatever it was, it involved Ivy and Danica because Landon opened the sliding glass door and asked them to come outside.

  “It’s Tate,” he said when the two women got there. “Tate, I’m putting you on speaker. Go ahead.”

  “I’ll keep it simple,” Tate said. “The training exercise we were down here for just got a whole hell of a lot more real. We got ambushed by a bunch of damn hybrids. Brent, Gavin, and I made it out with a few scrapes, but the rest of the guys with us weren’t so lucky. Neither were Declan and Kendra. The helicopter they were on got shot down a few hours ago. Best we can tell the bird ended up right in the middle of those bastards. We’re going to need help with a rescue.”

  Ivy’s perfect complexion went pale at the mention of hybrids. Derek didn’t look much better. Who could blame him? The guy had practically just professed his love for Kendra and now she was missing—or worse. Damn.

  “Ivy and I are on the first plane John can get us on,” Landon said.

  There was silence on the other end of the line. If it weren’t for the background noise in the distance, Angelo would think the guy had hung up.

  “I’d rather you didn’t involve John,” Tate finally said.

  “Why not?” Landon asked.

  “We’re not sure we can trust him. Or anyone else in the DCO except you and Ivy. This was a setup from day one, and John is the guy who sent us down here.”

  Landon exchanged looks with Ivy. She nodded at him. What the hell was that about?

  “Tate, I know you don’t want to spend time going over details you don’t think are important, but if you’re going to drop a bomb on us like this—that you think John set up your whole team to get slaughtered—you’re going to have to give us something more to go on.”

  There was another long pause before Tate answered. The more the guy talked, the more stunned Angelo was. While he didn’t know John personally and couldn’t say if he was the one who’d set up Tate’s team, he was pretty damn sure Tate was right about the whole thing being an ambush in waiting from the start.

  “And you can’t get any support from the American forces down there?” Ivy asked. “I mean, with all those marines who got killed, you’d think they’d be ripping the place apart to get out there and track down the people responsible.”

  “They wanted to, but the political shit hit the fan the moment we told them there were dead marines and a downed navy helicopter out there in the jungle,” Tate said. “The local government reps shouted foul, claiming we’d violated the use-of-force restraints placed on the U.S. military assets they’d allowed into their country. The Costa Rican president and legislative deputies shut everything down and put a hold on all operations while they investigate. There’s no way we’re getting help from anyone down here, which is why we need you and Landon, and we need you down here fast. Buchanan, too, if he’s available.”

  “Count me in,” Clayne said.

  Landon and Ivy asked a few more detailed questions—like whether they knew the coordinates where Declan and Kendra had gone down and most importantly, how many hybrids they might be facing.

  Like Derek, Angelo kept quiet. This guy Tate was tense enough. Knowing two guys he’d never met were listening in on the conversation wasn’t going to make things better.

  “Regardless of what you believe, you know I’m going to have to bring John into this,” Landon said.

  “No way,” Tate said.

  “I know you don’t trust him, and I understand why. But if we’re going to rescue Declan and Kendra, we need John’s help to get us into the country and set us up with the equipment we need. If we try to do this on our own, it could take us days to get there, and Kendra and Declan may pay with their lives. Are you willing to risk that?”

  Tate muttered something Angelo didn’t catch, then let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, I hear what you’re saying. But I need you to control the operation—marginalize his influence as much as you can. And I want your word that you’ll handpick the team that comes down here. If you don’t trust someone, don’t let John send them.”

  “You have my word,” Landon assured him. “I’ll select the team myself. They’ll be people I know and trust personally.”

  While Landon discussed the details they needed in order to link up with Tate, Ivy pulled out her cell phone and began making calls. By the time Landon hung up, Ivy was putting down her phone, too.

  “John is at the main office in town,” she said. “I’m not sure what he’s doing there on a Saturday, but I told him we need to talk to him immediately. He’s waiting for us.”

  Landon nodded, then looked at Angelo. “I hate to do this to you guys, but—”

  “We’re both in,” Angelo said.

  “In? As in going with us?” Landon shook his head. “No way. You guys are on leave. I can’t ask you to fly down to Central America and risk your lives.”

  “Then don’t ask,” Angelo said. “Kendra is a friend—not to mention a possible soul mate for Derek. We’re going.”

  Landon looked from him to Derek and back again. “Thanks.”

  Ivy ran her hand through her waist-length, dark hair. “Okay, that makes six of us.”

  “Five,” Danica corrected. “I’m supposed to go undercover at Chadwick-Thorn on Monday. It’s taken weeks for the Bureau to get me in there. If we pull out, we may not get another shot at them.”

  “Good,” Clayne said. “I don’t want you going.”

  Danica’s dark eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry, babe, but I don’t want you within a hundred miles of a damn hybrid. They’re too
dangerous.”

  “But I’m supposed to be okay with you going up against them, right?”

  “That’s different. I can handle myself,” Clayne told her.

  Angelo winced. He might not be able to connect with women, as Derek put it, but he knew that probably wasn’t the best thing to say.

  “Excuse us,” Danica said, grabbing Clayne’s hand and dragging him inside.

  Angelo frowned as Danica slammed the door closed. “Do we need to run interference in there with those two?”

  Ivy shook her head. “No. Clayne may have the sensitivity of a bucket of mud, but his heart is in the right place. He’s as afraid for her as she is for him.”

  Angelo shook his head. That only confirmed serious relationships and dangerous fieldwork didn’t mesh. He never wanted to be in the position of seeing the woman he loved having to deal with him deploying to dangerous places over and over, or worrying about her while he was on the other side of the world. That was something else he’d learned a long time ago. A soldier’s wife wasn’t the only one who paid the price when he went on a mission.

  Derek leaned back in his chair so he could see through the glass door into the living room where Clayne and Danica were arguing. “Things look pretty tense in there to me.”

  “They’re fine,” Ivy said. “Right now, we have a bigger problem. Like who else we’re going to recruit for this little search-and-rescue mission.”

  Angelo took another look at Clayne and Danica and saw them hugging. Apparently, Ivy knew what she was talking about when it came to men and women.

  ***

  Angelo was thoroughly unimpressed with the DCO offices. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but an unmarked set of glass doors in the parking garage of the Environmental Protection Agency wasn’t it.

  “This is just the place where the politics are played,” Landon explained as Clayne opened the door for them. “All the real work happens out at the training complex near Quantico.”