HOT SEAL Rescue (HOT SEAL Team - Book 3) by Lynn Raye Harris Page A
Authors: Lynn Raye Harris
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into his jeans pocket for his keys. His apartment was on the third floor, and he had to walk up the central stairwell to get to it since there was no elevator. He normally didn’t think twice about it, but tonight he sure wished he didn’t have to go so far.
He started up the steps, holding on to the railing as much to steady himself as to guide his steps. Once he reached the top landing, he only had to turn left and his door was right there. First he had to get to the top though.
He made it up to the first landing and turned. The light was out at the second landing, but it had been that way since before he’d gone on the last mission. He made a mental note to call the super or change the damn thing himself.
Cody started up the next set of steps, the beer sloshing in his belly more than he would like. Dammit, this was why he didn’t overindulge. Why he normally had more control. It was all because of Miranda. His life had been different since that day in the desert, and he didn’t like it one bit.
He reached the top of the next landing—and a man stepped out of the shadow of a doorway, startling him. That pissed him off because his senses were usually better than that. He relied on them to keep him alive out in the field, and now he couldn’t even tell there was a guy on the landing?
Good thing this wasn’t an op.
“Hey, man,” he said by way of friendly greeting.
“Hey, yourself,” the guy said. And then something jammed into Cody’s ribs from behind.
“What the—?” he said, starting to turn.
“Don’t move, asshole,” a guy’s voice growled.
The beer wasn’t helping matters, but Cody had enough training and determination to center his thoughts and focus in a way he hadn’t been able to only a moment before.
“What do you want? My wallet? It’s in my back pocket.”
“No, we don’t want your wallet,” the guy in front of him said. “You’re coming with us—and you’re doing it quietly.”
“All right.” He wasn’t going quietly, but damned if he was telling them that. He still had his keys in his hand, and he shifted them around until he had one sticking between his fingers like a weapon. Think, Cody.
“Care to tell me what this is about?”
The guy behind him snorted. “Mr. Conti wishes to speak to you.”
Cody blinked. “Wow, really? I thought he left the country.”
“Which is why you’re leaving too.”
“Damn, I’d love to help, but I really can’t do that, fellas.”
“You don’t have a choice, asshole.”
“I think I do.” He’d been trained in a hell these guys couldn’t imagine to react precisely the way he did. He let years of conditioning take over. Without thinking about it, he disarmed the guy behind him in one swift move and then pivoted to shove the key into the guy’s throat. A second later as the other guy moved in, Cody kicked the man’s knees from beneath him and then disabled him with a sharp blow to the neck.
“Jesus, what the fuck?” It was Money’s voice. Cody looked up to see his teammate’s gaze flicking between the two men on the landing.
“Hey, Money. What brings you here?”
“You left your phone in my car. I had to turn around and bring it back. Now what the fuck is this?”
Cody nodded toward the guys on the ground. “Think they’re friends of Victor Conti’s.”
“Aw, hell.” Money pulled out his phone. “That means we have to call Viking—and he’s gonna call Mendez.”
Cody shrugged. He was too far gone to care. “Better call an ambulance too. I might have cut this one’s jugular.”
17
“ Y ou have got to be fucking kidding me,” Mendez swore.
Alex “Ghost” Bishop watched the CO pace back and forth in one of HOT’s ready rooms. They’d both been called back to work in the middle of the night, and Mendez was plenty pissed. Not about being called in, but about the situation.
The SEALs were in another room, and Cowboy was half-plastered. But the dude had fought off two attackers and managed to
He started up the steps, holding on to the railing as much to steady himself as to guide his steps. Once he reached the top landing, he only had to turn left and his door was right there. First he had to get to the top though.
He made it up to the first landing and turned. The light was out at the second landing, but it had been that way since before he’d gone on the last mission. He made a mental note to call the super or change the damn thing himself.
Cody started up the next set of steps, the beer sloshing in his belly more than he would like. Dammit, this was why he didn’t overindulge. Why he normally had more control. It was all because of Miranda. His life had been different since that day in the desert, and he didn’t like it one bit.
He reached the top of the next landing—and a man stepped out of the shadow of a doorway, startling him. That pissed him off because his senses were usually better than that. He relied on them to keep him alive out in the field, and now he couldn’t even tell there was a guy on the landing?
Good thing this wasn’t an op.
“Hey, man,” he said by way of friendly greeting.
“Hey, yourself,” the guy said. And then something jammed into Cody’s ribs from behind.
“What the—?” he said, starting to turn.
“Don’t move, asshole,” a guy’s voice growled.
The beer wasn’t helping matters, but Cody had enough training and determination to center his thoughts and focus in a way he hadn’t been able to only a moment before.
“What do you want? My wallet? It’s in my back pocket.”
“No, we don’t want your wallet,” the guy in front of him said. “You’re coming with us—and you’re doing it quietly.”
“All right.” He wasn’t going quietly, but damned if he was telling them that. He still had his keys in his hand, and he shifted them around until he had one sticking between his fingers like a weapon. Think, Cody.
“Care to tell me what this is about?”
The guy behind him snorted. “Mr. Conti wishes to speak to you.”
Cody blinked. “Wow, really? I thought he left the country.”
“Which is why you’re leaving too.”
“Damn, I’d love to help, but I really can’t do that, fellas.”
“You don’t have a choice, asshole.”
“I think I do.” He’d been trained in a hell these guys couldn’t imagine to react precisely the way he did. He let years of conditioning take over. Without thinking about it, he disarmed the guy behind him in one swift move and then pivoted to shove the key into the guy’s throat. A second later as the other guy moved in, Cody kicked the man’s knees from beneath him and then disabled him with a sharp blow to the neck.
“Jesus, what the fuck?” It was Money’s voice. Cody looked up to see his teammate’s gaze flicking between the two men on the landing.
“Hey, Money. What brings you here?”
“You left your phone in my car. I had to turn around and bring it back. Now what the fuck is this?”
Cody nodded toward the guys on the ground. “Think they’re friends of Victor Conti’s.”
“Aw, hell.” Money pulled out his phone. “That means we have to call Viking—and he’s gonna call Mendez.”
Cody shrugged. He was too far gone to care. “Better call an ambulance too. I might have cut this one’s jugular.”
17
“ Y ou have got to be fucking kidding me,” Mendez swore.
Alex “Ghost” Bishop watched the CO pace back and forth in one of HOT’s ready rooms. They’d both been called back to work in the middle of the night, and Mendez was plenty pissed. Not about being called in, but about the situation.
The SEALs were in another room, and Cowboy was half-plastered. But the dude had fought off two attackers and managed to
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