The Mercenary (1 of 2 free samples)

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COPYRIGHT
The Mercenary by Cherry Adair. Copyright 1994 by Cherry Wilkinson.
All Rights Reserved. Sharing not permitted.

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THE MERCENARY

Cherry Adair

In loving memory of my mother, Petal Campbell, who nurtured the woman I've become.

And Jean Reed, friend and mentor, who nurtured the writer I've become.

Two strong, smart women whom I loved and admired.

I miss them both.


PROLOGUE

THE RED SUV CAREENED up the mile-long driveway spraying dust and gravel and spooking the horses grazing by the fence. It had been a blistering day, and the dust generated by the approaching vehicle hung lazily in the hot early-evening air.

Damn.

Annoyed, Marc Savin narrowed his eyes. Knowing who his visitor was, he was tempted to go inside and lock the door. He swore again. He wasn't ready for company, even if it was a man he respected.

Alexander "Lynx" Stone, his ex-partner and friend. Marc hadn't seen him in two years. A good guy to have at your back--not that Marc needed backup anymore. He was retired. For good. Nothing Lynx could say would bring "Phantom" back.

It took everything out of a man when he was responsible for killing the woman he loved.

Marc kept his eyes on the plume of dust following the SUV and took a swig of beer. With his other hand he rubbed at the scar on his shoulder. The scar and the memories were two years old. The scar didn't hurt, but the memories still managed to keep him up nights.

The vehicle slid to a stop several yards away, and Alex unfolded his lean frame from the driver's seat. Slamming the door he rounded the back of his vehicle. "Hey," he said, unsmiling.

"Hey, yourself," Marc replied, not bothering to mask his annoyance. "Don't tell me, you were just in the neighborhood--"

"And decided to drop by," Alex finished with a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Marc wondered how much Alex had guessed about his self-imposed exile, then wondered why he even cared. He took another drink.

"Nice place," Alex commented, glancing around at the ranch house, barn and fenced-in corral. A few quarter horses grazed in the pasture, while in another paddock a prize red bull lazily swatted at flies with his tail.

"I like it. What are you doing here?"

"It's Spider--"

Ah, crap. "No."

"Goddamn it, listen t--"

"Nothing you have to say is of any interest to me."

"The whole damn operation is going down in flames." This was Lynx talking now--not his friend Alex. "We found the three rogue agents."

That caught Marc's attention, in spite of his attempts to stay emotionally removed. "Yeah?"

"Curtis, Michaels... and Krista."

Marc was up and off the step before he thought about it, advancing on his friend as a red-hot rage fired his body. It had been so long since he'd felt anything other than apathetic that he startled himself with the leap of fury. "Bullshit!"

"Truth." Alex didn't back down from his rage, merely shot him an empathetic glance. "She was a double agent from the beginning--"

Marc didn't give him a chance to finish, simply connected his fist to Alex's jaw with a satisfying slam. Alex staggered back against his truck, rubbing his face ruefully. "Whoa! Don't kill the messenger."

"That's fucking crap, and you know it." Marc barely recognized the harsh sound of his own voice. Even while he was vaguely aware that he was overreacting, he reached over and grabbed a fistful of Alex's shirt, yanking him away from the vehicle. He landed another solid blow to the younger man's rock-hard midsection.

"Would I shit you on something this important?" Alex expertly warded off his blows, refusing to fight back, which only fueled Marc's anger even more. Why was Alex lying about Krista? Red filmed his vision as he fought in defense of the woman he'd loved.

And murdered.

Alex finally joined in the fight, Marc's equal. "You don't have to be so effing stubborn." His friend swung.

Marc leaned into the punch, shifting before the fist connected to his nose. He hit Alex's solid belly, then hit him again, and took pleasure when his friend winced. "You're blaming an innocent woman, just because she's already dead."

Rubbing his stomach, Alex mumbled, "We followed a paper trail. Her signature was authenticated. The sat pictures were verified, as well. There's no doubt she was one of them. None."

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