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  Then he was helping her up, grabbing their gear while she grabbed the rifle, and leading her up the slope to where Mark waited in one of the vehicles. They jumped in and took off toward the meeting spot. The rest would join them shortly.

  It didn’t feel real.

  As they sped away, she stared out the window, the sniper rifle across her lap.

  “You all right, kiddo?” Mark asked from behind the wheel.

  “Yeah.”

  “Clean shot?”

  Roscoe’s voice sounded full of pride. “She got him right in the farking throat. Looked like she nearly decapitated him.”

  “Least we won’t have to worry about cops swarming the area,” Mark said. “They’re a little busy right now.” He snorted. “Last thing on their agenda is one missing military guy or a report of one lone gunshot.”

  She spotted a military helo lifting into the sky and heading back toward the southwest.

  “And there goes his ride,” Roscoe said.

  “He won’t go looking for him?” she asked.

  “Nope. Alpha has already sent word to Arliss via Bubba that the mole is down. Arliss likely ordered El Segundo to recall the helo.”

  “No one will question Macaletto going missing?” she asked. “He’s a two-star.”

  Roscoe turned in his seat, a grim look on his face. “Honey, as far as military is concerned, he was never out here in the first place. Arliss set it up as a total black op. All anyone knows in regular channels is that Macaletto called his wife. Arliss, his driver, the flight crew that took him to El Segundo, the ground crew and helo jockey there—all of them will swear they never saw him. Officially, they’ll be looking for him in Washington, DC. It’ll appear like maybe he just walked off somewhere.”

  “Seriously?”

  He nodded. “Arliss isn’t playing around with these jokers. He’s now on the lookout for anyone else trying to step into Macaletto’s shoes with Silo’s church.”

  “So we still can’t contact Arliss directly, can we?”

  “Don’t have to. We have Bubba. Meanwhile, Arliss will start laying some false trails and see if he can tease anyone else from the shadows. Going to say we’re on assignment in Mexico and watch TSA to see if anyone from his command or the command of other SOTIF unit brass travels there, or to hear if any other SOTIF teams suddenly get diverted without it being run by him first. We’ll play the chum game for a little while and see who bites. No nibbles means we’ve cleaned house for good.”

  The rest of the crew joined up with them a short while later. Alpha emerged from his car, wearing a grin as he stepped toward Dolce, hand extended.

  “Damn fine shot,” he said as he shook with her.

  “Thanks.”

  “Wish we’d had you in Mexico City,” he said. “Would have saved us some trouble.”

  A grinning Niner pulled her in for a hug. “That’s my girl,” he said.

  Dolce wouldn’t deny the way Niner said it made her feel warm and gushy inside.

  “I think,” Mark chimed in, “that her code name should be Annie. For Annie Oakley.”

  “Only if yours can be Sparky,” she said.

  Alpha laughed. “I think we just dubbed our two newest Drunk Monkeys.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  With Mark navigating, they headed down into Glendale. They’d had to detour around one downed freeway overpass, which had blocked the road, but once they were past that, they wound through neighborhoods that had once been homes to affluent residents about the same time Griffith Park had been a well-used recreation area.

  Now there were a mix of apartment buildings and boarding houses, with the occasional business. Many private homes were boarded-up, abandoned shells, more than a few of them burnt out husks that had sat for years.

  Well, what used to be private homes. As with other parts of the city they’d seen, there was widespread earthquake damage.

  “Son of a bitch,” Mark muttered. “For an earthquake to do this much damage in this big a radius, it had to be huge.”

  “I don’t understand,” Dolce said. “It was a big quake.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t understand,” Mark countered. “There are several fault lines in this region. Usually, damage this heavy is limited to the epicenter and the immediate surrounding area. It’s like several fault lines went at once all over the damn valley basin. I don’t get it.”

  She didn’t care. She wasn’t a geologist. “How much farther to the CTSC facility?”

  “Less than a mile.”

  But a mile under these conditions could have been ten. They were reduced to rolling along, barely faster than walking speed. Few people were out on the streets here, unless they were sitting outside a heavily damaged building with a few scattered belongings surrounding them. Weeds and junk cars dotted brown patches of grass.

  They made a turn into an industrial area. Immediately, she spotted recently burned buildings, the damage likely done before the earthquakes.

  “Stay frosty, everyone,” Alpha announced through the radio. “Eyes open, weapons ready, locked and loaded. Watch your six.”

  Dolce knew what they’d find even as they rolled into the ruined facility’s yard. The gate sat askew. From the way it had buckled across the middle, it looked like someone had rammed it with a vehicle. Several burned out CTSC vehicles were scattered across the parking area. The outside of the two-story building was windowless concrete block, but along the roofline she spotted sooty places, like maybe a fire had burned inside.

  “Stay here,” Niner said.

  “Screw that noise,” she said. “They’re my friends. I’m going with you.”

  Mark stayed behind the wheel, window down and a carbine in his arms. “I’ll keep the engine running.”

  Alpha left Echo and Quack behind with the other two vehicles while the rest of them, rifles ready, made their way across the open space, their footsteps on the gravel under them eerily echoing off the building’s walls.

  The place felt more than deserted.

  It felt dead.

  As they edged around the building’s corner, Dolce saw where it looked like someone had driven a truck into the facility’s heavy metal door, shoving it in and partially caving in the opening around it.

  Here the soot marks were apparent, flowing out from the ruined doorway.

  As was the sickly sweet stench of human decay.

  Roscoe cleared his throat. “If you want to stay out here—”

  “I’m going.” She pushed past them, only stopping when Alpha put out an arm and moved in first with Omega.

  They all switched on lights attached to their rifles. Working down the main hallway, Lima had stepped back and pulled up something on his tablet.

  “Take the first right,” he said. “Blueprint says that’s the way down to their switch bunker, where the circuits and cabling feed through. They probably retreated down there.”

  Along the wall, besides the soot and smoke damage, were what Dolce knew were bullet holes and blood smears. They’d fought back, trying to stay alive. They came across two bodies, but they were men in civilian clothes, likely part of the mob that broke in.

  Following Lima’s directions, they found the steps leading down. All the secure doorways along the way had been battered open. In the main switch room, it didn’t look like the fire had reached here, although some of the server and switch racks were overturned or otherwise damaged or destroyed. That’s where they found the first body clothed in a CTSC uniform, a man, lying alongside the body of another man in civvie clothes near the doorway.

  Ignoring the others, Dolce rushed forward. “Sarah! Colleen! Desiree!” she called out.

  Niner and Roscoe ran to catch up with her as she dodged through server racks lying dark and silent, her light illuminating more dead men in CTSC unis.

  Then, in one final room, she found them, along with seven other women in CTST uniforms. Dropping to her knees next to Sarah, Dolce closed her eyes and struggled to hold back the scream struggling
to break free from her throat. She didn’t want to know exactly how her friends had died, although all the women’s partially naked states and ripped uniforms, along with the blood and bruises on their faces and other parts of their bodies, told the story of what they likely suffered through before they died. Their swollen, distended abdomens meant they’d been dead for a couple of days.

  Even if Mark and the others had come by the day before, there would have been nothing they could have done to help them.

  “Motherfucker,” Roscoe muttered as he and Niner caught up.

  Deep in her heart, Dolce had already known. She’d hoped and prayed her gut was wrong, but it had felt like finding Sarah’s gun in the storage locker was proof.

  Niner rested a hand on her shoulder. “Come on, sweetheart,” he quietly said. “Let’s go.”

  She wished they could bury them, but the question was, where? There wasn’t anywhere close by, without risking being attacked.

  Dolce let her men help her up. Roscoe kept an arm around her while Niner grabbed her rifle. Alpha and the others wore somber looks.

  “Sorry,” Alpha said.

  She nodded, not trusting her voice.

  Surrounding her, they returned to the awaiting cars, which were all three running and pointed toward the open gate.

  Mark didn’t need to ask when he saw their faces. Niner got into the backseat with her while Roscoe took the front.

  They were back at their hideout in Old Pasadena by five. Dolce had almost forgotten about Doc’s plight when she spotted the RV parked behind the garage.

  “How is Doc?” she asked Papa when he met them in the driveway.

  “Holding his own for now,” he said. “His fever broke about an hour ago. They’re thinking he might be on the mend.” When the commander hesitated, she knew someone had called ahead and told him about her friends. “Look—”

  “It’s okay,” she said, cutting him off. “I expected it. I was hoping I was wrong, but I expected it.”

  “Still, I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. And thank you for letting us go look for them.”

  He nodded. She wasn’t a dummy. She knew how command structure worked. They’d probably planned all along, if circumstances allowed it, to go by the facility, but hadn’t told her that ahead of time in case they couldn’t.

  They returned to their tent behind the house. Dolce lay down on their bedroll without bothering to remove her boots. She closed her eyes, not wanting to think for a little while.

  Roscoe and Niner followed her. “Need some company?” Niner asked.

  “Only quiet company. Not in a mood to talk.”

  One of them settled next to her and laced his fingers through hers. She heard the other leave the tent. She realized after a moment, from the sound of his breathing, that it was Roscoe who’d stayed behind. When she heard Niner speaking to someone outside the tent a few minutes later, she knew she’d guessed right.

  What does that say about me, that I fell into this so fast with them?

  At first, she’d thought it was more for fun than emotion, despite or maybe because of how good the two men were in the sack.

  Now, she realized they’d quickly filled a huge void in her heart. An empty place she’d spent a lot of years ignoring because it was just too damn painful to contemplate.

  “I bet Karlee’s dead, too,” she finally said.

  Roscoe gently squeezed her hand. “You don’t know that for sure. Bubba couldn’t find out anything about her status. She might have just gotten lost in paperwork and be fine somewhere over there. Maybe separated from her unit and staying alive.”

  She opened her eyes. His brown gaze looked full of concern.

  For a man who can find the absolute wrong words at the worst moment, sometimes he can find the most perfect ones.

  “You think so?”

  He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her fingertips. “What do you want to believe?”

  She drew in a hitching breath. “I want to believe she’s alive.”

  He shrugged. “Then she’s alive. Let her live. In your mind, at least. Doesn’t hurt anyone to think that.”

  “What about your brothers?” she asked. “They still alive? In your mind?”

  He smiled, but he couldn’t hide the sadness behind it from her. “Two of them are permanently off on extended deployment,” he said. “Secret missions. Radio silence. The third got wounded in action. He’s home with Dad. I sent him and Dad a message a couple of months ago to leave Brooklyn ASAP. Last time I checked my official messages, they’d responded and said they were heading to a cousin’s place up in Maine.”

  “Never got a funeral for your other two brothers?”

  He shrugged. “Can’t have a funeral when there aren’t any bodies. So I just keep believing they’re off somewhere doing their jobs, kicking asses, and taking names. Doesn’t hurt me to think that.”

  “Do you miss your dad and your other brother?”

  “Yeah, but that’s okay. Missing someone’s part of life. This is more important. Niner and I had each other, and the other guys. And now we’ve got you.” He kissed her hand again. “I think I’m a better man now than I ever would have been if we hadn’t met you.”

  Okay, now that was perfection. It also triggered her tears.

  She let him pull her close, holding her in his arms, her face tucked against his chest.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t want to cry.”

  He buried his face in her hair. “Hey, crying’s all right. Long as you’re not trying to make a kill shot at the same time.”

  She snorted, looking up into his face again.

  He wore a smile. “See? I’m still an asshole.”

  She held him more tightly. “Yeah, but your my asshole, and I love you.”

  His body went still, and for a moment she thought maybe she’d said the wrong thing.

  But when he spoke, he was the one who sounded emotional, on the verge of tears. “Baby, I’ve never loved anyone more than I love you.”

  * * * *

  When Dolce awoke the next morning, both her men were lying there on either side of her in their tent.

  “Thought you guys had watch?”

  Niner shrugged. “Papa told us to wait until today. Swapped us out with another pair.”

  She wasn’t an idiot. Likely it was Papa’s idea, but they’d done it for her.

  To make sure she wasn’t alone right now.

  The last thing she wanted to be was alone.

  Especially not right now.

  She rolled on top of Roscoe and kissed him. She thought maybe this morning lovemaking would be slow and easy, but then she was the one yanking her clothes off and theirs, frantic, wanting them inside her, wanting that blessed release and temporary mental respite that making love with them provided.

  Shutting down her brain so she could focus on something other than now.

  Roscoe pulled her down on top of him, quickly spearing her pussy with his cock. “Like that, baby?”

  “Yeah.”

  Niner got into position at her head, the fingers of one hand circled around the base of his cock, his other cradling the back of her head “Open up, sweetheart. You’re the one who woke up Feisty. And I don’t mean your mood.”

  A snicker escaped her. “Is that your cock’s code name?”

  “It is now,” Roscoe said. “You think I’m forgetting that, think again. That’s gold.”

  “Shit,” Niner muttered.

  “Boys, focus,” Dolce warned. “You are killing the mood.”

  Niner brushed her lips with the head of his cock. “Then I suggest you open up, baby, and start sucking. Give us something else to do besides talk.”

  She did just that, swiping her tongue over the head of his cock as it slowly slid between her lips.

  “There you go,” Niner said. She looked up and found desire burning in his green gaze. “You like sucking my cock, don’t you?”

  Actually, yes, she did. A lot. And it
was a fairly ample appendage to suck, too.

  Closing her eyes, she enjoyed how Roscoe thrust up into her, filling her, fucking her so well, while Niner enjoyed her mouth.

  “Play with yourself, baby,” Roscoe said. “Get yourself off for us.”

  She’d had her hands braced on Roscoe’s chest. She slipped the right one down between her legs, her fingers brushing against her clit.

  “I could watch you do that all day long,” Roscoe said. His hands cupped her breasts, playing with them, tweaking her nipples and adding to her pleasure as he fucked her.

  And he fucked her quite well.

  She suspected they would have to make this one short and sweet, based on the sounds of people up and moving around in the early-morning light outside their small tent. But she didn’t let that distract her. Instead she focused on the sensations, the way these men seemed to know her body this soon.

  How good this felt.

  Especially the not-thinking part. Although she enjoyed the workup to her orgasm.

  Matching Roscoe’s rhythm, she let Niner fuck her mouth and take control there while she continued playing with herself, her fingers on her sensitive clit drawing her ever closer to release.

  And then, it started. Delicious and filling her, swelling, until it finally burst, exploding into a thousand tiny pieces. The men sensed it and picked up the pace, Roscoe fucking her harder and faster until he squeezed her breasts, letting out a low moan as his body went rigid.

  Then it was Niner’s turn. He cupped her head in both hands and was fucking her mouth in his way, at his speed. She loved that he’d taken control.

  She reached up and cupped his balls, playing with them, feeling them start to tighten and draw up. That meant she was ready for him when he came, swallowing every drop and wishing they could spend all day together like this without any other cares or worries.

  They snuggled together for a minute. “We have to get up soon,” Niner said, the voice of reality. “Sorry.”

  “I know. I mean, I know we have to get up.” She kissed him.

  Roscoe snorted. “I thought you meant you know he’s sorry.”