Keep My Baby Safe Page 19

  “Get up,” Rich snarled, hauling a groggy Chad up by the arm. “Take your buddies and get your asses out of here before you piss us off.”

  The four men roused their attackers out, tossing the men into the parking lot outside. “Get out. All of you. I’ve called the cops,” the barkeep snarled. “This is a respectable place.”

  “We didn’t start it,” Dan protested.

  “I don’t care. Get out.”

  The four men tossed two twenties on the bar to cover their food and beers, glaring at the barkeep, then stomped out. Rachel and her friends hurried after them, clinging to their arms as they escorted them past Chad and his goons. Derrick paused.

  “Leave her alone, or the next time, I won’t go so easy on you,” he growled at Chad.

  “I’m so sorry,” Rachel murmured as she stayed close to Derrick.

  “Not your fault,” he muttered.

  “Can I drop you off somewhere?” she asked. “Maybe…my place?”

  He stopped and stared at her, then smiled. “Am I going to have to worry about Chad busting in again?”

  She smiled and relaxed. “No, I don’t think so. If he does, you can kick his ass properly this time.”

  “Dan! Rachel is going to give me a ride, okay?”

  “No problem.”

  McKenzie and Misty paired off with Rich and Thom. Karen looked at Dan and smiled. “That was something back there.”

  “Stupid fucks.”

  “Yeah, but you gave them a chance. That fucking Chad has been hassling Rachel for weeks.”

  “What the fuck did she see in that asshole?”

  “Well…he’s hot, for one thing.” Dan snorted, and she grinned. “He hit her a few weeks back, and that was it. They were already having trouble. The steroids were making it so he couldn’t get it up anymore. Add to it he was getting bat-shit crazy…”

  “Stupid fuck is going to kill himself. Good riddance.”

  She licked her lips. “Can I give you a ride somewhere?”

  “I have my car.”

  “You…want to follow me home?”

  He felt a twitch in his manhood. Karen was attractive as hell, but for some reason, running with Fug as they tried to make their escape came up from the depths of his memory and he felt the attraction wither and die. He smiled at her softly.

  “Maybe some other time.”

  She watched him, a small pout on her lips. “What’s wrong?”

  He touched her face softly. She felt good under his fingertip. “Nothing. You’re beautiful and sexy but—never mind. I’d love to, but I can’t.”

  “You’re not married, are you? You’re not wearing a ring.”

  He chuckled. “No. Not married.”

  “Then why?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “At least kiss me goodnight?”

  He smiled and leaned in to kiss her softly. She tried to draw him in, but he pulled gently back from the kiss. “I’m sorry.”

  She frosted over. “Yeah, so am I. I thought you were a nice guy. I liked how you were willing to walk away rather than fight. What are you, gay?” He didn’t answer, and she glared at him. “Okay, if you don’t want to fuck me, then you can just go fuck yourself.”

  She spun on her toe and stomped away. He felt a sick sinking in his stomach. “Not gay,” he murmured softly to himself. “Merely a stupid shit.”

  He turned and walked to his Tahoe, slamming the door. He stared out of the windshield as he bounced the meaty part of his hands off the steering wheel.

  “You stupid fuck,” he snarled to no one.

  He opened his door, intending to go after Karen, but he’d only made it three steps before a car pulled into the road and roared away, the driver giving the car hell. It had to be Karen.

  “Fuck,” he muttered and returned to his vehicle. He was so fucked up. He crawled into his rig and slammed the door hard, his lips tight as he started his truck. He yanked it into gear and stomped on the throttle, the SUV lunging away with a chirp of tires. It wasn’t the Tahoe’s fault he was a fuck up, but he was taking it out on the vehicle anyway.

  He’d had time to cool off before he turned into the base, the airmen giving him a crisp wave through the gate, and he wondered if he was one of the MPs who had shot them to shit earlier in the day.

  The headlights of his car picked up a figure running along the side of the road, the woman’s red ponytail swinging with her stride. He slowed as he pulled up beside Tasha and rolled the passenger window down.

  “Want a ride?”

  Tasha glanced at him, smiled, and slowed to a stop. The sun was down, but he could see enough to know that his first impression of her—that she was a goddamned knockout—was correct. She wore a sweat-soaked sports bra that hugged her perfectly. Her face glowed with her exertions, and he liked the way her breasts heaved as she leaned on the door and panted.

  “No, but thanks for the offer.”

  “Kind of late to be running, isn’t it?”

  “Too fucking hot to be running during the day. Actually, it’s too fucking hot to be running now.” She smiled and wiped at her face. “But a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.”

  “The NSA must expect a lot from their people.”

  She grinned. “I wasn’t always an analyst. I’ve done some field work, and I want to stay in shape.”

  “Are you shitting me? You were a spy?”

  “Sure was.” She grinned at him. “Don’t look at me like that. Remember what I said about the CIA moving in and spreading a lot of money around, buying information? Yeah, it’s really like that. My life as a spy wasn’t nearly as glamorous as it looks in the movies.”

  “Where were you stationed?” She smiled at him but didn’t answer. “Ah. Got it. Forget I asked.”

  “It’s okay. It probably wouldn’t matter now if I told you, but some habits die hard. Like staying in shape.”

  “Why don’t you use the gym? It’s air-conditioned.”

  She spluttered. “Run on a treadmill? No thanks. I have to be going somewhere to run.”

  “Sure I can’t give you a ride?”

  She grinned. “Thanks, but no. Why don’t you get out of that air-conditioned truck and run with me? Misery loves company.”

  He chuckled. “Maybe some other time. I like to run in the boneyard. It gives me time to think.”

  “You run?”

  “Yeah. Surprised?”

  “No, I guess not. You look more like a guy that hits the weights.”

  “Well, I do that too. But running, it frees my mind.”

  “Yeah, I get that. I get in the zone and the miles just pass. It’s why I don’t run on a treadmill. I can’t get into the zone. Too many distractions. Next time you think about running in the boneyard, if you want some company, call me. I’ll join you.”

  “I run in the day.”

  “Fuck. Forget it then.” She snickered. “Seriously, call me. I’d love to see whatcha got.”

  “Okay. Deal. Last chance for a ride back to the guest quarters.”

  She slapped the side of the truck and stepped back. “I’m good.”

  He nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

  Natasha

  “Director Whittlefield.”

  “Director, its Sampson.”

  “Morning, Tasha.”

  “Ready for my report?” Tasha asked.

  “Just a moment.” There was brief pause and she knew Whittlefield was starting a recorder. Her report would be transcribed by computer and entered into the records. “Proceed.”

  “Alpha Team is coming along nicely. They are working well as a team.”

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “Yes, sir. Sergeant Thames has really stepped up as their leader, and their fieldcraft is much better now.”

  “So they’re no longer a bunch of Rambos?”

  She snickered. “No, sir. Even Chief Petty Officer Tesley has mellowed out.”

  “I assume we’re still on schedule?”

&
nbsp; “Ahead of schedule, sir. They are progressing much faster than I anticipated. Having Thames on the team really helps. We should recruit more of the Pararescues. He has an instinctive grasp of what we’re trying to accomplish.”

  “That was a good call, Sampson, putting him on the team.”

  She smiled at the compliment. “I had a feeling about him.”

  “What’s our timeline?”

  Tasha thought. They were at least three weeks ahead of schedule, but she didn’t want to over-commit her guys. “I think we’ll be ready to activate them in about four months. Maybe less.”

  “So, in four weeks, you feel like you’re a month ahead of schedule?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  There was a short pause. “Okay. There’s nothing on the threat board, so there’s no need to push this. We’ll plan on activating them on your recommendation.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “We’ll begin the selection process for the next group at that time.”

  Tasha licked her lips. She’d debated asking this question since her third weekly report. “One thing, Director, if I might. I’d like to stay with these men and continue their training.”

  “No. I need to you to break in the raw recruits. You’re the best we’ve got.”

  “I understand, sir. But I realize how much more these men can learn. I didn’t expect them to be so adept at covert field work. If we’re going to base all the training off what these men can accomplish, then I think we should really push them. Let’s see what they can actually do.”

  Another long pause. She gripped the phone tightly. At least the director hadn’t shot her down immediately.

  “I’ll take your recommendation under advisement.”

  Tasha grinned. That was far easier than she expected. He hadn’t agreed, but he hadn’t shut her down either. “Thank you, sir.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Carry on, then. And Tasha…”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “If they are as good as you keep reporting, impress me with what they can do.”

  She grinned, her heart thumping in her chest. “Count on it, sir.”

  “Very good.”

  She hung up the phone and threw her hands up in a victory salute. She knew Whittlefield well enough to know what he was hinting at. If she pulled a rabbit out of the hat with these men, he would give her what she wanted. She was surprised at how possessive of her team she’d become. She didn’t want anyone else meddling with them.

  She checked her watch. Fug was probably waiting on her with a car. She picked up her bag with her running gear and headed for the door. They would be cooped up in the building all day today, and she’d want to stretch her legs after that.

  She’d taken a liking to Fug after she’d helped her with the first exercise. Whenever she needed a straight man, Fug was her go-to person. She was smart, eager to please, and the men liked her. Best of all, she never asked questions about what they were doing or why. She simply did her job and kept her mouth shut.

  Tasha stepped out into the bright Arizona sun. Seven-thirty in the fucking morning, and it was already almost ninety. She slipped her sunglasses on as Fug opened the car door for her. Fug was as put together as ever, but she had a certain bubbliness this morning.

  “Fug. How are you this morning?”

  “Good. Yourself?”

  “Fine.” Fug closed the door and trotted around to the driver’s side. As she slid behind the wheel, she was grinning.

  “Okay, what going on?”

  Fug looked at her, her smile disappearing and returning wider a moment later. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

  “Bullshit. You look like the cat that just ate the canary.”

  Fug pulled away from the curb. “Nothing.”

  “Come on, come on. Give.” When Fug didn’t say anything, she smiled. “What, did you get laid last night?” She watched as Fug’s color rose. “You did!” she crowed. “It must have been good.”

  Fug glanced at her as she beamed. “It was un-fucking-believable!”

  Tasha chuckled. “That’s good. A girl needs her toes curled every now and then. Anyone I know?” Fug’s color darkened. “No! Which one?” she gasped.

  Fug swallowed hard. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble.”

  “Not from me. What you do in your off-hours is of no concern of mine. Now spill it. Which one? Derrick?” Fug’s smile told her everything she needed to know. “I knew it! He was good, huh?”

  “Oh, my God. We fucked all night. I’ve never come so many times in my life.”

  Tasha watched as Fug struggled but failed to wipe the smile off her face. Lucky little bitch, she thought with a small smile of her own.

  As she and Britney entered the building, she watched the men. Derrick had a bit of a smile as he watched Fug approach, but the other three men gave no indication that anything was out of the ordinary. Tasha nodded mentally, approving of the fact that Derrick didn’t fuck and tell.

  “Gentlemen. Today, I’m going to start teaching you how to pick a pocket, and equally important, how to put something into a pocket. Airmen Fug will be your target. This takes a lot of practice, so don’t feel bad if she catches you. I can tell by watching if you have the technique down. Once you have that, all you need to do is practice. Got it? Who wants to go first?”

  She spent the next four hours working with the men. She planned to teach them the bump and lift, the slide, the three-finger pass, and the slip and dip. She wouldn’t be able to teach them all four in one day, but over time they would learn them all, choosing the best technique for a given target.

  She started with the bump and lift because it was fast, easy, and a classic for women with a purse.

  “Okay, Derrick, that was pretty good,” Tasha instructed, “but you need to press yourself into Fug more firmly as you slide past. The bump is the key. You need to distract her so she won’t feel your fingers dipping into her purse.”

  She grinned as Fug and Long didn’t look at each other and tried to hide their smiles. They were keeping it professional, but dammit, the sex poured off them like a waterfall. If they had five minutes alone, she was certain Derrick would be up to his balls inside her. The thought of it made her feel itchy.

  “Do it again.”

  She watched as Derrick and Britney walked toward each other as if they were on a street. Derrick brushed past her and his hand slid into her purse, coming out with the wallet inside. It was still a bit clumsy and it was clear the average woman would have felt him digging in her purse.

  “Better! Okay, Dan, you want to give it another try?”

  Britney and Dan lined up, and he made the grab. When they were three paces apart, Fug stopped and looked in the purse. She seemed surprised it was empty. Dan help up the wallet with a grin.

  “Shit. I thought he missed it!”

  Tasha smiled. Dan was her star pupil. He was a quick study and almost always got what she was teaching first, especially if it involved any type of dexterity or grace. His long, graceful fingers and less bulky build was an asset, and he made good use of it.

  “Great job! Our first undetected pick!” She smiled as he returned the wallet to Fug for another run.

  She wondered what else he could do with those fingers but shoved the thoughts aside again. Focus.

  “Ready for a challenge?”

  “Sure.”

  Tasha took the wallet from Fug and slipped it into her back pocket. “Try that.”

  He grinned. “Okay.”

  They started walking toward each other. As they passed, he grabbed her arm, whirled her around, and kissed her. The kiss was brief, but she staggered back, shocked.

  “What the hell, Dan?” He grinned as he held up the wallet. “Bullshit! That won’t work in the real world.”

  “Did you feel me take it?”

  “No, but I’d have known something was off! You can’t kiss a random woman on the street!”

 
He grinned again. “Well, what do you expect? You are always harping on ‘improvise.’ You haven’t shown me how to pick a pocket, so I improvised.”

  She stared at him a moment, then began to giggle. “Touché.”

  “Wait. I want to improvise next,” Rich cried as everyone else joined in laughing.

  As the end of the day approached, all four men could pick a purse, most of the time without getting caught. Dan could do it every time, at least right-handed. He wasn’t as good as the best, but he was at least as good as the average pickpocket with his right hand, though he still needed work with his left.

  “Okay. Rich, Derrick, and Thom, you keep working with Fug. You know what to do. I’ll work with Dan one on one to see if he can pick my pocket.”

  “If he gets to kiss you again, I’m calling foul!” Thom complained, his tone teasing.

  “No more kissing,” Dan promised.

  Tasha felt a sinking in her stomach. She wouldn’t mind being kissed again, thoughts of Fug and Long getting all sweaty, gasping and moaning as they tumbled about in the bed leaping to mind. Focus.

  “Okay, you’ve got the bump and lift down pretty well. It works on suit pockets as well as purses, but since we don’t have anyone wearing a suit, I’ll teach you the slide. It works much like the bump and lift, but instead of coming at them from the front, you come up from behind. It gives you more time for a difficult lift. Here’s how it works.”

  She started Dan walking. She came up behind him, sliding past him as if the street were busy, dragging her hand along his back before dipping her hand quickly into his pocket. She palmed the wallet so he wouldn’t see it and continued past. Five steps in front of him she stopped and showed him his wallet.

  “Shit. I didn’t feel a thing.”

  “You’re not supposed to. We’ll go through it slow the first time.” She stuffed his wallet into her back pocket. “Come up behind me,” she said as she stood still, “then press your body into mine as you slide past. As you do, let your hand fall to my pocket and pinch the wallet between your first two fingers. As you pass, pull the wallet then palm it like I showed you so the mark can’t see it. Got it? Give it a try.”