Mission: Impossible to Deny (The Impossible Mission Romantic Suspense Series Book 7) - Jacki Delecki (great novels of all time txt) 📗

“Go ahead, shoot her. I don’t give a fuck.”

“You might not. But your boss and the Russians will definitely care if she dies.”

Muscle slowly bent and kicked the Glock to Reeves.

 Galina tried to pull away by trying to get traction for a counter move, but he wrapped his arm around her throat, cutting off her airflow. Reeves would love the chance to demonstrate his martial arts skills, in which he had the most extensive training and a lot more confidence than defending himself with a 9mm revolver.

He pushed the muzzle hard against her head. “My finger is on the trigger. Any fast movement and you’re dead, your brains all over the room.”

“Now, your phone.” He turned to Muscle. Survival instincts blasted through him, ready to take on any threat.

Bending for the phone and keeping cover on both Galina and Muscle was a risk. This was the time for Galina to demonstrate her Russian operative skills or for Muscle to rush him.

She stiffened but didn’t react when he secured both the gun and phone. Spending years gaming and typing made him quite ambidextrous, or maybe it was the “piss your pants” fear.

 He tucked the Glock into his waistband and the phone into his shirt pocket. He left her phone on the table. Muscle wouldn’t get past Galina’s phone password.

“Hey genius, how do you plan to get out of this room?”

Reeves dragged Galina to the door, keeping his hold tight. “Enter 654123. And no fucking around. I haven’t forgotten Tex.”

She entered the code, and the door clicked.

He scanned the warehouse before dragging Galina out of the room. Anticipating her to make her move in the larger space, he tightened his hold on her throat, letting her feel his strength and keeping her light-headed. With the adrenaline pouring into his body, he was hyper-focused on both Muscle and Galina. Every cell was firing, aware of every shift in her body. He waited for her counterattack. Her breathing was choppy, and her body trembled. Was she that skilled to feign fear?

“Asshole, you’ll be back in this room in less than five minutes, and then you’re going to pay. The crew is outside. I won’t go easy on you as I did with Thompson,” Muscle said.

Reeves’s intense training kicked in his muscle memory. His hand was steady, his body primed to react, and his heart rate was slowing. He hauled her across the room with her spine forced against his chest. The gun never wavered from her temple. Muscle hadn’t rushed him, not taking the risk of Galina getting caught in the crossfire. It showed strategic thinking that Reeves didn’t think the criminal was capable of.

Or maybe Muscle was covering his ass not to get killed since he either expected McDonald back or the crew was really outside the warehouse door.

Reeves tightened his forearm on Galina’s windpipe. “How many guards are there waiting for me?”

She choked and gasped. Her body slackened.

“Don’t think of lying to me. I’ve nothing to lose here, and you have a lot to lose.”

He lessened his hold. She sucked air into her lungs. “None. They’re picking up a shipment.”

“Enter the code 654123. Now.”

Reeves didn’t believe her. He was a highly valued target. The Sureños surely had more than three armed guards in their “safe” warehouse if Reeves included Galina as part of the security detail.

He pushed her out the door, hyped for the next fight, but there was nothing. Nothing but old buildings. No cars. No activity. No men with assault rifles to take him back.

He scanned the area. His pounding heart lodged in his throat. The rundown warehouse was in the middle of a row of dilapidated houses and vacant office buildings. He had no idea where he was. An area of Palo Alto that he didn’t know from his days at Stanford. A busy thoroughfare was straight ahead that he’d avoid, expecting where the reinforcements would arrive from once they learned of his escape.

With full momentum, he slammed the pistol into the side of Galina’s head. She’d have one helluva a headache, but she would survive—unlike Tex. She crumpled from the blow. He lowered her to the ground.

And then he ran …

Chapter Fifteen

Rubbing her eyes, trying to stay focused on the monitor, Darcy scanned the street cams at the intersection where she had been T-boned, looking at the different views of the driver to get an angle that she could run face rec on. Staring at a monitor wasn’t helping her violent headache and typing with one finger wasn’t helping her frustration. The FBI, CIA, and NSA teams, all better-equipped and skilled, were reviewing the same footage that she was. She should lay down to reserve her strength until they were ready to roll, but the idea of being still, allowing her mind to take over …

If she weren’t busted up, she would have taken a run or hit the gym. She had to stay busy, not go down the black hole of imagining Reeves in the hands of the drug gang. From her time in Afghanistan and with the CIA, she had a lot of close-up experience to conjure up images of the lowest denominator of humankind.

Desperation swirled so close to the surface that she didn’t know how to handle the feelings. It would be easier if she were the one kidnapped. She was trained in SERE—unlike Reeves. Being helpless, not able to act was worse than any torture the Sureños could cook up for her. Knowing she was responsible for Reeves’s suffering, raw, primitive fear squeezed her chest in a steel vise. She had put assets in danger without this gut-wrenching worry. The assets knew the risk and had their reasons for their role. But Reeves had done nothing. And he would be safe in Seattle if she hadn’t involved him. And it would have been better for him if he never met her—never agreed to work with her.

“When is the last time you took your