There was a limp to his right leg, an odd angle in the shape of his left hand as he walked away. Frackle and Fillipini followed him as Tenneyson and Arthur locked up and reset the alarm to the unit before moving quickly to catch up with the others.
The explosion that had targeted Ascarti had apparently not done enough damage. He was clearly as organized and just as dangerous as he had been while Sorrel was still alive.
Giving Micah a careful hand signal, he sent the other man, along with Noah, to make certain Ascarti and his mercenaries were out of the unit.
It took long minutes for the rental storage facility to become deserted except for Jordan and Nik, allowing them a chance to slip from the shadowed area where the team had hidden.
Slipping a small leather case from the pack he carried on his back, Jordan quickly picked the heavy lock one of the Ascarti’s mercenaries had secured before leaving, while Nik worked to disable the security inside.
It was apparent that Ascarti had no reason to suspect that Frackle and his partner had led Jordan and his team straight to them. Of course, why should he; they believed Jordan was dead.
As the heavy lock released, Jordan slid it free before slowly easing the door open, sliding the penlight from his pocket and stepping inside.
“Well, well, well,” he muttered as he surveyed the contents of the unit before turning back to Nik, who had positioned himself protectively at the entrance.
The other man’s pale, icy blue eyes narrowed as his expression tightened in lines of savage fury.
“What does the bastard have planned?” Nik muttered as they each surveyed the array of hidden weapons, ammunition, and surprise, surprise, several dozen handheld rocket launchers.
“I’d have sworn Sorrel was dead,” Nik continued. “But this…” He shook his head slowly as he allowed his gaze to catalog each item there. “God, Jordan, this fucking makes me wonder.”
“DEA would have a field day over this,” Jordan murmured as he moved to several covered boxes, lifted a crowbar from one, and quietly eased open the lid.
The Russian-made automatic weapons weren’t nearly as interesting as the weapons packed away, though.
A dozen Israeli corner shot automatic rifles were packed in the first box. Replacing the lid, he went to the one beside it. It was packed similarly, guns in the middle with boxes of ammunition packed around them.
Tehya’s weapon of choice.
Easing one of the weapons from the bottom of the box, he carefully arranged the packaging material to hide the theft from a casual check of the inventory before doing likewise with several boxes of ammunition before handing it all to Nik.
He hadn’t heard of the weapons missing, and they weren’t available for street sale. They were strictly military weapons. He knew a certain DEA team commander who would be very interested in this facility and its contents.
It was also the weapon heading Tehya’s “ask for from Santa” list. If possible, he would ensure it was given to her if he wasn’t around later.
The thought had him pausing. As though there was a chance in hell that he was walking away from her. It nearly brought him to a hard stop. There had never been a question before of walking away from a lover. The only question had been how short the time he would be with her before he grew bored.
With Tehya, he couldn’t imagine growing bored. He couldn’t imagine a night, a day, a second of his life that he wouldn’t want her.
He hadn’t changed his mind about the illusion of love. What he had done instead was to convince himself that the illusion could be preserved, if only for a little while.
“We got a problem here, boss,” Nik commented as he stared at the contents of the box. “If Ascarti has these weapons, here in America, then he could be planning more than simply getting his hands on Sorrel’s baby girl.”
Jordan turned an icy look on the other man.
“I was being facetious,” Nik finally growled. “Hell, Jordan. You’re going to have to either put a damned ring on her finger or cut the possessive crap. You can’t protect her forever if you’re going to keep walking away from her.”
“I didn’t ask your opinion,” Jordan murmured as he turned away and glared back down at the weapons.
“I volunteered it,” Nik assured him.
Hell, there was something to be said for being the commander while they were under contract to the Elite Ops. Now that