Falling Hard Read online

  Josiah moved in, step by small step, as if not to scare or rattle her. Pretty soon two trained men would almost be on top of her, and then it was just a matter of time until one of them wrestled the weapon away from her.

  And that’s how it would end because there was no way West was heading back home after this and listening to the shit he would get from Bravo if he let a hot brunette get the jump on him and take a shot. He had a badass shoot-anything reputation to uphold.

  “At this distance I can blow your balls off,” she said, looking ready to do just that.

  Then again . . . “Okay, that’s a solid argument.”

  That fast West held up his fist to stop Josiah’s attack. Thought he saw Delta leader’s lips twitch in a smile, too.

  Josiah circled wide around her and dropped next to the men bleeding on the floor. He grabbed paperwork out of their pockets and checked pulses. West decided to keep his eye on the woman with the gun instead of moving around.

  After a few minutes she lowered the weapon. Didn’t put it down or ease her grip, but it no longer aimed at his groin, and he was pretty damn grateful for that.

  “You’re American.” Josiah made the obvious call, which sounded ridiculous in his British accent.

  She frowned at him. Gave him one of those you’re-an-idiot expressions women did so well. “And you just killed a man.”

  West looked down. Saw the blood. “Yeah, but he attacked first. Well, maybe not technically.”

  “It’s his country.”

  True, so West didn’t debate the point. Also held off on the fifty or so questions bouncing around in his head about her and the urge to demand answers, including the identity of the guy he shot as well as the other guy on the floor. Not to mention the part where she looked to be a captive a second ago but seemed just fine now.

  He ignored those and zipped right to the heart of the mission. “Dr. Alex Palmer?”

  Some of the tension around her eyes disappeared and the barrel of her gun tipped until it aimed at the floor. “Sort of.”

  Now West knew they were in trouble. “What the hell is a ‘sort of’ doctor?”

  “Ma’am.” Josiah stood up again. “You knew the code but are now saying you’re not the doctor. You care to explain that?”

  She winced. “Sort of not the doctor.”

  Josiah took his place next to West. Tall with a could-kick-your-ass attitude, Josiah looked every inch in control. “Stop saying that.”

  “Yeah, wrong answer,” West said at the same time. When she just stood there, he tried again. “In case you’re not clear, this conversation is not going well for you.”

  Her gaze moved back and forth between the men. “Do you two practice that act? The rapid-fire question thing combined with the disapproving looks and the semithreatening comments?”

  Josiah exhaled as he hitched his thumb in West’s direction. “You have two seconds to say something that doesn’t make West, here, twitchy.”

  Her gaze switched back to West. “He doesn’t look like the nervous type.”

  Never mind that “he” was standing right there.

  Josiah snapped his fingers, probably to regain her attention, but the move earned him a glare instead. “You don’t look like a sixty-year-old male doctor from Seattle, so talk. Who are you and where is he?”

  “He’s on his way to Everest. He won’t be available until he reaches base camp, which is days away.”

  The shitty news just kept coming. West was ready for a little luck. “That’s just fucking fabulous.”

  She stood up straight enough for her back to snap. “I’m his daughter. That’s how I knew the signal.”

  Josiah didn’t move. “Uh-huh.”

  “My dad is Alex. I’m Alexis. You can call me Lexi.”

  West had studied the file. Knew all about Palmer and his kid and where she wasn’t supposed to be—here. West didn’t think he could hate this assignment more than he had, but right then it took another step into crapville. “You’re saying a lot of names but not explaining anything.”

  “Does it help that I can press one button and bring the Pakistani army running?” She picked up a small black box off the floor. It could have done anything, been anything. “As far as I’m concerned that means I’m in charge right now.”

  Josiah’s hands went to his hips. “Oh, really.”

  West understood Josiah’s reaction. She was dead wrong about her role in the power structure, but West admired spunk. “The dead guys on the floor suggest otherwise.”

  Her eyebrow lifted. “Don’t let the breasts fool you. I know how to use the gun I’m holding.”

  Well, damn. Now West had no idea where he should look.

  “Noted.” All of it. The breasts, the gun, the face. Pretty or not, smooth-talking or not, this woman was trouble. A warning sign flashed above her head, and he added a mental Stay away to keep from becoming the world’s biggest dick.

  But the ticking at the back of his neck warned of an impending screwing, and not the good kind. No, this land had fucked him over once before. He had a feeling he was headed straight for round two.

  2

  LEXI TRIED not to heave. The air jammed in her throat and her heartbeat hammered hard enough to rock her whole body. Not that she would let these two guys know it.

  She’d gotten the call out for help and shouldered some of the risk while using her dad’s connections. Just as he taught her. Also dropped his name in the right international circles to make sure the right people in power took the warning seriously. Gave the emergency signal and called in favors, all in his name because like it or not a man’s name got you further in these parts than a woman’s.

  Never mind that she ran the clinic right now while her dad acted as the medical representative for expeditions on Everest and Lhotse, two of the world’s highest mountain peaks. The clinic was his baby, but left alone, she dealt with the local political operation and waded through all the restrictions about things she had to do to blend in and be a part of a community.

  And as soon as she could reach him at base camp she’d fill him in.

  Thanks to her chronic insomnia, she’d noticed the late night convoys and watched as the trucks rolled into the base of the mountain. Saw the men unload what looked liked weapons. Town-destroying, war-starting weapons.

  In her place, she knew her dad would have made the call to report the odd shipments. He’d probably have tried to shuffle her out of the country first because he still saw her as a confused girl of fifteen instead of a twenty-six-year-old adult. She’d long ago decided to think of the overprotectiveness thing as charming rather than what it was—annoying. But there were days her tolerance ran low.

  The two guys in front of her? She hadn’t decided what they were yet. They worked for some agency. They weren’t aid workers or doctors. They were trained killers with guns, which didn’t matter. What they lacked in charm they made up for in firepower. And really, she needed lethal, not likable.

  She’d hoped for black ops experts and expected fighting machines. Seemed like her wish had been granted.

  As she looked now, she pinned them as the grown-up Boy Scout type and the hot could-lift-a-truck type. One of those sounded like he could be the right guy for this job.

  Since knowing their real names might be easier than her assigned nicknames, she tried that. “Who are you two? And by that I mean what do I call you?”

  Her gaze traveled between them but kept landing on the big one. Tall, well over six feet, with broad shoulders big enough for her to climb and sandy brown hair in a military cut. If there was an extra ounce of body fat on him, she couldn’t find it, and God knew she kept looking for it. No, those muscles bulged just fine through the thin fabric of his form-fitting athletic jacket.

  For women who liked their men brawny and quiet while wearing a fierce glare, he’d be a dream candidate. She generally went for the studious, researcher type who never stepped foot inside a gym. Still, there was something about this guy—his demeanor, t
he way he answered every verbal shot she threw out with either one of his own or a confused frown . . . the whole big and hot and protective thing—that had her staring.

  While the silence dragged on, the one who looked kind of proper and a bit more refined, though that could have been the British accent, studied the documents he’d picked off the dead guys. She ignored him and continued to analyze the man locked with her in a staring contest.

  No, there was nothing pretty about him. He possessed a rough-around-the-edges look and seemed unapologetic about it. He held that gun like . . . well, like he slept with the damn thing. Maybe that’s what drew her. If a battle came, he’d be a good guy to stand behind.

  Then a thought broke through the adrenaline rush of confusion and frustration. They hadn’t answered her simple question. She was about to pipe up and ask again when the dark-haired one spoke. Didn’t bother to lift his head. “I’m Josiah. He’s West.”

  She’d expected last names. First or not, these sounded fake. “Those are . . . unusual.”

  The corner of West’s mouth twitched. “You should be more interested in what we can do with a hand grenade.”

  Okay, she’d bite. Didn’t look like they were moving until these two said so anyway. “And the answer to that is?”

  “Anything.” He made the word last for what sounded like fifteen syllables.

  Yeah, he’d be a good shield. “That’s strangely comforting.”

  And if her instincts were right, they were going to need one. She’d been waiting for the CIA or SEALS to storm in. Maybe these guys were one of those. She still didn’t know but at least someone listened and sent reinforcements. It would suck if she’d gotten this whole convoy thing wrong.

  “Happy to help.” This time West smiled.

  At least she thought he did. It came and went so fast it could have been anything. Gas, boredom . . . an inner need to kill things. Maybe he remembered shooting the guard and that made him chuckle, who the hell knew.

  The next two seconds might give her an answer. She blinked, losing the staring contest, but only because her eyes started to water. “Then lower the gun.”

  Josiah glanced up and watched. She watched. Minutes of silence ticked by, then a few more. She couldn’t tell the exact number. Couldn’t look away from West’s intense green eyes either.

  For a big guy he could hold still. Not move or talk. The quiet made her head pound, and his ability to prolong the waiting without flinching made being patient that much harder.

  Just when she thought her insides might crawl out from the building tension, West nodded. The gun, at least the one in his hand, disappeared into the holster at his hip. Impressive that he listened but not a miracle. From this angle, about three feet away, she counted three other weapons on him. And those were the ones she could see.

  “You obeyed her order?” Josiah asked with more than a little awe in his voice.

  West shrugged. “Yes.”

  Since there was no need to tick these two off, she tried to tone the language down. “It was more of a request.”

  “Because she told you to?” Josiah’s blue eyes bulged. “Since when do you listen to unknowns?”

  “I’m an unknown?” That didn’t sound very promising.

  “For now,” West said.

  She had no idea what that meant or what question he was answering. “Okay, then.”

  The odd male interaction suggested she’d won the debate, but she doubted it. The big guy struck her as someone who didn’t do anything without having four backup plans ready. He could probably slice off her nose without moving his arms. She wasn’t in the mood to test him, so she handed him the gun she swiped off the floor during chaos while bullets had ricocheted around her.

  Good thing she wasn’t the pass out, throw up, or run away type. She’d grown up hearing about surgeries and seeing blood, then enjoyed a front-row seat to it all while in school. She remembered all those photos of climbers who came off the mountains with frostbitten limbs and devastating injuries. She’d seen split skin and cracked bones that would make most people lose a month full of lunches.

  Her father had an odd sense of what constituted appropriate vacation photos. As a young girl she used to heave as she flipped through those albums. Training and lots of heavy inhaling helped. Now she saw things that might take down even this big guy West. Though probably not. He didn’t look as if he’d fall all that easily.

  The one thing she’d learned while working in and around Skardu—don’t show fear. Deference and respect, yes. Defiance and ego, no. The people who lived there were decent and generous, but you did not mess with the military. The presence and power proved stifling.

  “I know the hostile who had you captive was part of a patrol. Can tell by the uniform and papers.” Josiah pointed to the body that was already on the floor when they stormed the building. “But who is this guy?”

  She’d asked the same question a few minutes earlier. “No idea.”

  West frowned at her. “Seriously?”

  “He came in and started shouting, then the guard burst through the back door and shot him.” She shook her head as she studied the carnage around her, blocking out the human toll and trying to concentrate on pure facts. “I couldn’t pick up the dialect or understand what he was saying.”

  “We need to move.”

  With comments like that, West looked smarter and smarter to her. Getting them to follow her might be trickier. “Agreed. Here’s the plan—”

  “Excuse me?”

  She ignored the Brit and the accent and the whole talking-down-to-her thing. She lived here. She knew the people and the danger. Maybe these two shot people for a living or wrestled lions or whatever—fine, she wouldn’t judge—but she followed the rules, and that included knowing where and when to go places. All their intel couldn’t give them a global look at the reality on the ground.

  There was only one way to get out of this without endangering her father’s work or risking her ability to stay in-country with him. “We’re going to finish ripping this place apart.”

  West moved his foot and something crunched under his heel. “That shouldn’t take much effort.”

  At least they were still listening. “Make it look like someone came in here searching for drugs and killed the guard and that guy, whoever he is.” She struggled to remember him from anywhere but nothing came to her.

  Josiah frowned at her. “We need—”

  “Don’t use anything that can be traced back to you, or your group, or even the United States, or Great Britain, though I’m unclear on how you fit in here.” She waved her hand at Josiah as she said the last part.

  “You’re not alone,” West said in a dry tone.

  She kept right on talking, somehow knowing if she stopped they’d jump in and she’d never get the floor back. “You need to wipe out any sign that I was here at the time. That might work since the clinic was supposed to be closed hours ago.”

  There. Now she’d finished, though the sudden silence following the reveal of her big plan did unnerve her.

  Josiah glanced at West. Neither man said anything as the quiet ticked on. When Josiah started talking, he hesitated over the words. “You’re a ‘sort of’ doctor? You sure you’re not CIA?”

  “Or a drill sergeant?” West asked.

  If they thought that was bossy now, they were going to love the next few minutes. She pointed at West. “You’re coming with me, getting me out of here in one piece.”

  That sexy lip twitch of his came back. “How did I get so lucky?”

  She didn’t see a reason to pretty it up. “You’re big.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Didn’t sound like she’d offended him . . . yet. “I figure if someone shoots at me they’re more likely to hit you. That makes you the most valuable man in my life at the moment.”

  That was the reason for finding him compelling. Some sort of anthropological trigger. Like a survival instinct. It had to be.

  She tried to
put all the pieces together and make her reaction to him fit. The unwanted smack of interest. The whole couldn’t-stop-staring-at-him issue. It all boiled down to his size. Being big and loaded down with weapons, West would protect her. He’d been trained to do so.

  Even if the guy wore a bag over his head it wouldn’t matter. Getting her out was his job, and she had a feeling he excelled at the whole rescuing thing. No way would someone high up in the U.S. intelligence community send a novice in to get the intel she claimed to have, or they thought her father had. No one knew about her, apparently. Of course, that didn’t explain why the Brit tagged along.

  Josiah shook his head. “The idea of using West as a shield sounds pretty bloodthirsty for a doctor, sort of or not.”

  “Smart, though,” West said.

  She skipped over the doctor part and long-winded explanations about her dad being unavailable as he hiked to the base of Everest for fun. There would be time for twenty questions later . . . she hoped. “Besides that, I think I can probably outrun you.”

  This time West scoffed. A big hearty tone that sounded as if it rolled from deep in his chest. “You would lose that bet.”

  There it was. Self-confidence. A good thing to possess in this situation. West was definitely the right answer for her human shield.

  They could debate the details of her life and his running skills later. Right after the get-to-know-you talk, which she planned to avoid altogether. “Either way, we only have a few minutes.”

  “Because?” Josiah asked as he held up the edge of the worn curtain and checked outside.

  “These guys patrol in groups of two. The one you both took a shot at is the more agreeable of the two on the night watch.” The one not in the room was a complete ass who used intimidation to get whatever he wanted in town. “His partner will kill us without asking questions. Or arrest us, and here that’s much worse.”

  Josiah finished scanning the outside through the window and turned back to face them. “Good news is we neutralized the other guy.”

  West frowned. “We?”