Ghostrider - M. L. Buchman Page 0,61

rare few, like JJ, carried the warrior with him up to the heights of command without being corrupted.

Just like the Pentagon, all of the defense contractors had the same dichotomy. She’d learned to start with the doer-nerds, garner as much “truth” as she could, and only then meet with the Mikes of the world.

Taz had never tried to change the mind of the warrior caste before.

When all else fails, try the truth?

She ignored Mike, still sitting on the floor and patting his eye gently, and focused all of her attention on Jeremy.

“We need your help.”

42

Pierre tried to remember how he’d ended up in this position, but couldn’t quite put it together.

One moment he’d been standing just to the west side of the wrecked Ghostrider airplane he’d been flying in this morning. The evening sun fast approaching the high hills to the back of Avalon Harbor hid the worst of the devastation along the waterfront.

The next moment, his back was pinned against the hull. A very big combat blade from Holly’s leg sheath was up against his throat—point digging painfully into his skin. Not poised to slice across, rather set to be jammed straight into his brain and end him. He could just manage to see the distinctive metal ring at the hilt that would slip over a rifle muzzle to make it a bayonet. A seven-inch M9. Straight to the brain indeed.

Her other hand wasn’t at his throat or pinning one of his arms.

Instead it was clenched around his balls so tightly that if he so much as coughed, or even tried to uncross his eyes at the searing pain, she’d crush them.

“Tell us everything you know about General JJ. Now.” Her voice was dead calm, but there was no question that he was eye-to-eye with death—hers had turned to steel blue far harder than the steel of the knife at his throat. The setting sun directly behind her lit her blonde hair with fire.

He glanced at Miranda. She stood four paces back, still holding her phone, and just watching the situation. Her head was tipped slightly to the side. No help there.

“Back off.” Pierre knew it was a mistake even as he said it. He’d moved his jaw too much and could now feel a hot trickle of blood slipping down his neck. “Please?” he whispered.

She eased the knife back about three millimeters, and her ironclad grip on his balls by about three grams. It wasn’t good, but it was better than nothing.

“I wasn’t part of it.” It was hard to speak without moving his jaw.

“Part of what?”

Not daring to speak, he rolled his eyes toward the remains of the Ghostrider behind him.

“You know more?”

He nodded with just his eyes.

“And you’ve been keeping your mouth shut because?”

“Rosa,” he managed to whisper.

And he’d just betrayed that trust.

But hadn’t she done the same thing? Betrayed his and the Air Force’s trust in her?

No question, he was definitely in hell.

He wanted to bang his head against the metal hull behind him—but there was a knife at his throat. Then he heard the cold, slick sound of it disappearing back into its sheath.

He opened one eye carefully.

“Know that look in the mirror all too well, mate. Worse than a hornet in a bottle. So angry you want to choke yourself dead.”

Pierre tested a breath to see if it was safe, but her hand was gone from his crotch as well. “Never seen anyone move that fast.”

“Good thing I’m not in a bad mood. Start talking or I will be.”

He edged away from the vise jaws of the lethal blonde and the dead plane. At the edge of the quay, he simply stood and stared out over the water. The sun was just disappearing into the central hills of the island, the last of the long shadows slicing across the scorched harbor.

The two women moved up to either side of him.

“I don’t know much. Tech Sergeant Rosa…Rosa Cruz…is, was—I guess—the best damn laser operator in the US Air Force. Christ but that woman taught me so much about my own job. Absolutely incredible.”

“And seriously hot,” Holly said it flat.

“You have no idea. Brains, body, skills—the whole goddamn package. Just sexy as hell!” Then he twisted to look at her. She’d trapped him even more neatly than he’d trapped himself.

“You’re gone on her.”

“I am?” He supposed that was a stupid question. Yeah, or you would have turned her right in rather than risking your career and your freedom.

“What does Tech Sergeant Cruz have to do