“We picked Heather up three years ago. Wow, three years. My, how time flies. Maybe not for her, since she’s working off what would have been a very long prison sentence. It was either work for us or get to wear a very nonflattering orange jumpsuit, and orange is definitely not your color, sweetheart. Not with that red hair.”

  “Let me guess,” Leo said with a snort of disgust. “You gave her another choice. Do this or go to prison.”

  “She’s a smart cookie, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Bowers ran a finger down her cheek, and Heather recoiled, her face expressing her desire for him to be struck by lightning, set on fire, and have his dick incinerated to nothing but ashes. At least that was Leo’s take on it.

  Leo spun to face his computer. “Why did you wait so long?”

  “Because you wouldn’t finish the fucking thing,” Bowers muttered, coming to stand next to him. “When Heather said you had the fifth piece and just needed one more, I figured it was time for a little encouragement. If you haven’t noticed, I’m running out of time, and patience.”

  Leo logged in to Jarvis, aware of Bowers hovering over his shoulder. A few keystrokes later, his software’s messaging window popped up.

  “What is that? What are you doing?”

  Leo looked up at Bowers like he was an idiot. “Giving Heather permission to access my software. Jesus, Bowers, do you know anything about this shit? You think software created to handle a program like the one I’ve been working on is going to have open access so anyone could get in? What if it fell into the wrong hands? Isn’t security your job?”

  Bowers pointed his gun at King. “Call me stupid one more time and I put a bullet in your boyfriend. You think I want to be working with you fucking holier-than-thou nerds?” Bowers’s nostrils flared, his near-black eyes filled with unbridled anger. “No. This is my punishment. You make one mistake and suddenly every assignment is babysitting little shits like you.”

  This project was groundbreaking. How was it a punishment? He supposed it would be to someone like Bowers, who was most likely used to field work. Leo took a page from Heather’s book, sending an encrypted message hidden within the code that would supposedly allow her access to his program. In truth, the software he was sending was a dummy, a sort of mirror to the real thing. It would look and act like the program, but none of the changes would affect the real program. It would do what Leo wanted it to do, including making Bowers believe he’d completed the code. With Bowers hovering over Leo’s shoulder, he couldn’t get a message out to the guys, but Heather could. He made sure to discreetly alter the transfer speed on his outgoing upload, slowing it down. The transfer window popped up, the green bar moving gingerly, but not slow enough to make Bowers suspicious. “What happens to us?”

  Bowers shrugged. “Not my problem.”

  “Really? You’re just going to let us go?”

  “Like I said. Not my problem. Now those men downstairs? That’s a different matter. Once the program is done, packed up, and ready to go, I’m out of here.”

  “I can’t believe you sold our government out to the Russians,” Leo muttered, shaking his head. He needed to buy them some time, to figure something out. The guys might be four hours away, but the Kings owned a chopper. Leo was under no illusion the guys weren’t already hauling ass over here, providing Heather sent them the message he begged her to. Even if Heather sent the message, it still left a lot of unknown variables, such as the message getting to Ace and the guys in the first place. How long it would take them to get here was another unknown. Without information on exactly what type of helicopter the Kings had, Leo couldn’t get a time of arrival. He had to think of something else. Leaving their fate to the guys wasn’t an option, but it was hard to think with Bowers watching his every move. He’d only be able to stall for so long.

  “Lyosha, get yourself cleaned up. Bathroom’s right there. Then stand guard with Osip,” Bowers ordered. “Wounded or unconscious, I still don’t trust that cocky bastard.”

  “How is he?” Leo asked the large man, ignoring the glower he received.

  “He will be fine. For now. Bullet went straight through the shoulder. Removed the bullet from his leg, and the third bullet did not hit any organs. He has the best stitch work and is bandaged. If he dies, it will not be from his wounds.”

  The implication in the asshole’s words wasn’t lost on Leo, but he said a little prayer of thanks anyway that Bowers had at least kept his word, saving King. Not that Leo still wouldn’t shank them all if he got the chance.

  “So what’s the going rate for our country these days?” Leo asked, as the green bar came dangerously close to finishing. Fuck, he was running out of time. If Heather didn’t play ball, he’d be out of it. Play ball….

  “You’ve seen it for yourself. Our government is broken. The ship is sinking, and I’m not going down with it. I’m taking my money and buying some deserted island somewhere to live the rest of my life in the sun, sipping cocktails and getting laid.”

  “A vacation getaway? Seriously?”

  “You’re not listening. This country is going to crash and burn. It’s only a matter of time. Look at your boyfriend. When he and his friends got back, who took care of them? No one, because Washington didn’t give a shit. They’re too busy with their little pissing contests to care about what happens to guys like him, like you, like me. I gave everything I had, sacrificed my family, my life, and because I’m not willing to bend over and take it up the ass—no offense—I’m demoted to babysitter, threatened with permanent desk duty.”

  “I’m not sure what disturbs me more, that out of everything you said, the thing you thought I’d be offended by most is in reference to taking it up the ass, or that you’re prepared to do exactly what you’re accusing them of doing. It could mean the end of this country. You’re not only opening the door to every threat imaginable. You’re handing them the grenade to blow it all up. Innocent people will be hurt.”

  “Haven’t you heard? We’re already at war. Might as well join the winning side.”

  “And you think they’re going to go, ‘Hey, thanks for the treason. Here’s your bags of cash. Enjoy your island’? Come on, Bowers. You know better than that.”

  “How about a little less mouth and a lot more typing.”

  The green bar finished, and Leo’s time was up.

  “Avengers are en route,” Heather said, and Leo’s heart leaped into his throat. God, he hoped that meant what he thought it meant. Thank you, Heather.

  Bowers peered at her. “You mean Jarvis. Avengers is the op name.”

  Heather rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I don’t follow that comic book stuff. Isn’t Jarvis part of the Avengers?”

  Leo held back a smile. He could have kissed Heather for being so convincing. “If you’re talking about the movies, then technically yes. Tony Stark and Bruce Banner uploaded Jarvis into the synthetic body Ultron created. He then became Vision.”

  Bowers looked from Leo to Heather and back. “This is why you nerds don’t get laid.”

  “First of all, that’s stereotyping and so eighties-teen-movie. Second of all, my boyfriend’s a Green Beret, so I win any argument on that front.”

  Heather snickered, and Bowers’s scowl turned fierce. “I might reconsider the whole ‘not shooting you two in the head’ thing.

  Leo leaned forward, reaching beneath his monitor, and found himself face-to-face with the barrel of Bowers’s gun.

  “Steady there, hotshot. What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Relax. I’m getting my stress ball.” Leo plucked up the little black handball and showed it to him. “See?”

  Bowers peered at the ball before moving his gaze to Leo. “What are you going to do with it?”

  “Um, relieve stress? That’s how stress balls work.”

  Bowers motioned to the screen. “All right, smartass. It’s done. Now get to work.”

  Leo grunted, squeezing the black ball in his right hand, his knee bouncing. “Is she set up?”

  Bowers muttered something under his breath and returned his gun to the holster attached to his tactical vest. He went to stand beside Heather, and Leo glanced over his shoulder to do a quick scan of the room. Lyosha and Osip stood in front of the bookcase housing his collectibles. The room had been destroyed during King’s epic fight. The coffee table was in pieces around the living room area. Bowers now stood to the right of the kitchen a few feet from the open doorway that led downstairs.

  Think. Leo squeezed the ball in his hand. He glanced at King and froze. From Bowers’s angle, he couldn’t see what Leo did—King tapping his pinky finger.

  King was awake.

  Chapter 11

  It was only a matter of time.

  King could feel the shift in the air, along with the agonizing pain shooting up the left side of his body from the three bullet wounds he’d received. At least he wasn’t bleeding out anymore, and on the plus side, it was his left and not his right. If he wasn’t so weak from the blood loss and the beating, Bowers would already be dead, but there was no way he could get up and take down those two bastards before Bowers got a shot off. Not in his condition. There was also the little matter of the small army downstairs.

  Leo had played this smart, and King was so proud of him. His guy had expertly turned the worst of a situation to his advantage as much as he could. Knowing Bowers needed him gave Leo leverage, and with that he’d cleared the room, limiting the number of hostiles for when they made their move, which would be soon. Leo was stalling. No way he was about to give Bowers the program he’d been working on. Judging by the looks Heather was giving Leo and the fact she hadn’t ratted him out said she was eager to get out from under Bowers’s thumb.

  King did a quick assessment of his injuries. His body screamed with pain, his muscles ached, he could barely see from one swollen eye, and the second he moved to get up, he’d most likely tear through his stitches. But he could do this. He would do this. King gritted his teeth, his mind and body preparing to take action, because the last of Leo’s resolve was about to snap.

  Bowers was yelling at him.

  “Stop yelling,” Leo said through his teeth, but that only made Bowers yell louder. Hands balled into fists on his legs, Leo looked Bowers right in the eye and yelled, “Penny!”

  Everything that came after could only be described as orchestrated chaos, a series of events happening in rapid-fire succession as well as simultaneously.

  Mouse Trap.

  On hearing Leo’s command, King rolled off the futon and hit the floor, ignoring the pain that coursed through his body at the sudden movement and the jolt that reverberated through him when he landed. As King rolled, Leo’s ball hit one of the large glass display cases on the bookshelf, shattering the glass into millions of pieces and sending the sharp projectiles into Osip’s face. The man screamed, grabbing his face, and jerking to his left where he slammed into Lyosha. The ball was back in Leo’s hand as Lyosha tried to move out of the way of his falling comrade only to trip on one of the coffee table’s legs.

  With a roar, Lyosha fell head-first into the kitchen counter, knocking himself out and scaring Heather, who screamed, momentarily startling Bowers, giving Leo enough time to shout.

  “Baseball!”

  Penny, drop. Baseball, catch.

  Bowers spun toward Leo in time to get smacked in the face with the handball rebounding off the wall to the guy’s left, all while King caught the gun Leo had tossed him in the seconds Bowers had been hit with the ball. King fired one round after another into Bowers, the blows from the bullets hitting his vest sending him stumbling through the open doorway behind him, curses filling the air along with the thumping of Bowers tumbling down the stairs. King spun and fired a round into Osip who’d decided to charge him, the bullet to the head killing him instantly.

  “Heather, let’s go,” Leo ordered as he ran over to King, helped him to his feet, and put an arm around him. They hurried for the balcony doors, and Leo slid one open just as the thundering sound of helicopters filled the air. Heather closed the door behind them, and they ran for the end of the expansive balcony, bullets tearing into the glass behind them and hitting the pillars as the horde from downstairs emerged.

  “Looks like the boys brought the cavalry with them,” King shouted over the whirring of helicopter blades. Either Ace and the guys had notified the General or Heather had, because along with the black Four Kings helicopter, three military choppers approached from the sides. Ace, Joker, and Lucky, wearing full tactical gear, rappelled down ropes attached to the chopper. As soon as they were cleared, the Kings chopper moved out of the way and another took its place. Boots hit the rooftop balcony from all sides, the men returning fire the moment they were free from the ropes. Ace turned to Leo, his smile huge as he shouted over the cacophony of gunfire and helicopters.

  “Your dad’s an awesome guy.”

  Leo returned Ace’s grin. “I know.”

  “He wants us to follow his guys back. He’s going to meet us wherever that is after he chews some asses. He is not going quietly into the night after this clusterfuck.” Leo nodded, and when Ace moved his assessing gaze to King, fury filled his gold-green eyes as he took stock of King’s injuries. “They’ve got a medical team waiting. We’ll head there first.”

  “I’ll be okay,” King shouted. “Find Jack and Red. I think Bowers pumped something into the vents to knock them and the others out.”

  Ace turned to Lucky and Joker. “You heard him. Go get our boys.”

  Joker and Lucky took off, and Ace turned his attention back to King. “We should go. The guys can hitch a ride.” He went to tap his earpiece, but King stopped him. “You need to find Bowers.”

  “I will. You need to get patched up.”

  “They’ve got Bowers,” Leo said, stiffening beside King.

  They turned to the small group of soldiers heading in their direction, Bowers restrained and in tow. The guy looked pissed, a little worse for wear, and was limping, but he was in one piece, which was more than he would have been had King gotten his hands on him. He’d kind of been hoping Bowers would have put up more of a fight, but the guy wasn’t stupid. Bowers clearly didn’t want to die, though considering where he was heading, death would have been a better option, in King’s opinion. The wind picked up, and one of the Army choppers perched near the balcony’s railing.

  “What about her?” Ace asked King, motioning to Heather, who stood shivering and hugging herself.

  “Put her on the chopper with Bowers.”

  “No,” Leo said, his expression hard.

  “Leo, she betrayed you,” King ground out.

  “She had no choice, King.”

  “There’s always a choice.”

  Leo’s nostrils flared, and King cursed under his breath. He wasn’t going to win this. Leo believed Heather to be an innocent victim, and maybe she was, but King would need to see proof of that.

  “Fine. Ace, she rides with us. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

  “Got it,” Ace replied.

  The soldiers escorting Bowers nodded to Ace, who returned the gesture, before they shoved Bowers toward the awaiting helicopter. A couple of soldiers grabbed him and hauled him on board, then pushed him down into one of the seats and secured the seatbelt around him. As soon as the chopper cleared, the black beast belonging to the Kings took its place, and just in time too, seeing as Joker and Lucky appeared with Jack and Red.

  Relief flooded through King. They were okay. Jack and Red ran over when they saw him, and Red checked him over.

  “We need to get you to a hospital,” Red said, his eyes filled with concern.

  “There’s a team waiting.” Ace took hold of King’s arm, Lucky the other. “Jack, Joker, you guys hitch a ride with the General’s guys. We’ll get King to the black site.” Everyone had their orders, and King gave his weight to his brothers now that his adrenaline was plummeting and Leo was no longer in danger. He made sure Leo was on the chopper first before he let the guys help him in. He dropped into the seat beside Leo and put his arm around him, holding him close against his good side. It was almost over. Leo laced their fingers together and kissed his temple. It felt good. No, it felt amazing. The doors closed, and they took off, nothing but blue skies ahead.

  With Leo at his side and his brothers surrounding him, King surrendered to his exhaustion.

  When he woke, he was reclined in some kind of hospital bed, hooked up to machinery monitoring his vitals, a saline drip attached to his hand, with the IV in his other hand delivering a nifty painkiller.

  “Hey, handsome.”

  King smiled at the familiar voice. He liked that voice a whole lot. Actually, he loved that voice. “Leo,” King murmured, his throat dry and rough. He hated the mind fog that came with morphine. He preferred the pain, but he had a feeling Leo wasn’t going to let him get away with toughing it out. Neither would his brothers, for that matter. He’d probably get a lecture from Red, or worse, Ace. He certainly didn’t need that.

  “I’ve got some super yummy ice chips for you.”

  King grunted and held a hand up for the little plastic cup. “I’m not dying,” he grumbled, ignoring Leo’s chuckle. He was so beautiful. “You’re so beautiful.”

  Leo’s warm brown eyes sparkled from behind his glasses as he smiled lovingly at King. “Aw, and you’re even more adorable when you’re high.”

  “I’m not high.” King sucked an ice chip into his mouth, his movements slow, like he was moving through Jell-O. “I hate Jell-O.”

  “Okay, then. No Jell-O for you.” Leo ran his fingers through King’s hair, and King hummed. He closed his eyes.

  “That I like. What you’re doing now.” He leaned into Leo’s touch and gently took hold of his arm. “Come ’ere.”

  “Come where?” Leo asked, laughing softly. He leaned in and kissed King. It was feathery soft, and King wanted more. He wanted Leo closer. “Easy there, stud. You’re lying in an infirmary bed with three bullet holes in you, in case you forgot. No sexy times for a while.”