Mercenaries Read online

  This was where the conversation got a little dicey. “Two provinces over. That’s why I’m here. I was supposed to be meeting a guy who could get me a counterfeit pass, but I’m guessing your presence scared him off.” She gave him her best innocent look. “I don’t suppose you’d happen to have a pass or two in that pack of yours?”

  A ghost of a smile crossed his rugged face. “No. That’s Jackson’s specialty. I need some lead time if you want stuff like that.”

  Good point. She might have considered that before she took off except that would have nixed the whole sneak away while no one is looking angle. Maybe having Trace along wouldn’t be such a bad thing after all. And as a bonus, she wouldn’t have to give him up just yet. “You think he could get us a couple of passes? I mean, if you’re going to shadow me anyway you might as well be useful.”

  Trace’s brow shot skyward. “Shadow you? I was kind of thinking of tossing you over my shoulder and dragging you back home.”

  “But you’re not going to do that because you’re really a nice guy. Right?” She put just a tiny bit of pout into that statement.

  He shook his head ruefully. “You are a little minx, you know that? How about I give Jackson a call and see about those passes. We’re going to need a cover story to get past the guards at the border. Any ideas?”

  She studied one of the cinnamon buns much more seriously than it deserved. “My original cover story was that I was going home to attend a funeral. We could still use that one if you want, but we’ll have to tweak it a bit.”

  He must have heard the suppressed laughter in her voice. The look on his face was cautious, if anything. “And whose funeral would that have been?”

  She peeked up at him from beneath her lashes. “Yours?”

  He let out a bellow of laughter. “I don’t think that’s going to wash. You’re going to be traveling as my bond-mate, just to simplify things. We’ll be attending my brother’s funeral. Much more believable.”

  Winter took a mouthful of coffee. He really did know how to make a good coffee. “Why is that more believable?”

  “Because one look at me, and they’ll assume my brother is some kind of soldier. Soldiers die. It’s a fact of life. No questions asked, they’ll feel sympathy for a fellow soldier and let us through with minimal fuss.”

  He was right. She knew he was, but still, that didn’t stop her from being annoyed. She refused to acknowledge the hard knot that coalesced in the pit of her stomach at the matter-of-fact way he’d said “soldiers die.” He was a soldier and the thought of him being shot or knifed or hurt in any way was totally unacceptable. It took a lot of effort to summon the smallest of smiles. “Okay, we’ll go with your story.”

  He nodded, suddenly looking all businesslike. “Good. I’ll get Jackson to get the paperwork ready. We can go back and pick it up along with the jeep. No point in humping it on foot across two provinces.” He fiddled with the com device on his wrist for a few moments. Winter nibbled on her cinnamon bun and watched him.

  He looked so darn competent, and she wasn’t sure she liked that. Somehow he’d managed to take charge of her little excursion, delegating her to the status of tagalong. Not that she didn’t appreciate his help. It would make the trip so much easier but since she hadn’t told him the whole truth, it could turn out to be… interesting. Yes, interesting was the word she was looking for.

  If she timed it right, she’d never have to admit to the rest of it.

  Chapter Four

  “Thanks, Sarge.” Trace took the packet of paperwork from Kaeden and slipped it into his back pocket. “Appreciate the help.”

  “I know we asked you to find Winter, but you don’t have to go chasing all over the nine provinces with her.” Kaeden managed to put just a hint of a question in the statement.

  “Actually I do. She’d going to go whether I do or not, and I need to keep her safe.”

  “Like that, is it?” A knowing smile curved Kaeden’s lips.

  Trace shrugged. “Yeah. It is.”

  “Good luck then.” Kaeden gave him a friendly slap on the back. “And make sure you call for backup if you need it. We can be there ASAP. Dee would never let me live it down if either of you get hurt.”

  Trace couldn’t resist. “Like that, is it?”

  “Damned straight. That woman runs my life, and I’ve never been happier.” Kaeden shook his head. “Hard to remember back when it was only us guys, isn’t it?”

  “It was grim. I like the new order, and I’ll like it even better when I manage to convince Winter I’m the right guy for her.”

  Kaeden let out a low whistle. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you. I thought you guys were past that.”

  “Nope. Not sure what the problem is but I think it has something to do with this trip to look for her roots. Don’t worry. I’m not planning on letting her get away.”

  Winter came bouncing into the room, followed by Dee and Wren. Putting her hand on his arm in an unconsciously intimate gesture, she grinned up at him. “We’re all set. Did you get the papers?”

  Trace patted his back pocket. “Got them right here.”

  “Great. I’ll go grab my kit and meet you in the garage. We cleared to take the jeep?”

  “Make sure you bring it back in one piece!” Kaeden’s glare might have been more effective if his eyes weren’t clouded with worry. Trace knew he didn’t like the members of his team to take off alone.

  Slinging his own kit bag over his shoulder, Trace held out his hand to Kaeden. “Wish me luck, Sarge.”

  Kaeden took his hand and pulled him into a bear hug. “You got it. Now go get that little lady whatever the hell it is she needs to feel whole and safe.”

  Damn. Kaeden might look like a redneck jerk, but he always seemed to know just what to say to his team. If this thing went south, he and the rest of the team would be right there to bail him and Winter out. Knowing you had someone at your back was one of the nicest feelings in this whole screwed-up post war world. He hiked the kit bag up on his shoulder and turned to follow Winter out to the garage.

  The last thing he wanted was for any of the other Mercs to see him looking other than his usual rough and tumble self.

  * * *

  “Okay, first checkpoint coming up. You ready?” Trace glance over at Winter. She looked so darn cute, sitting in the jeep dressed as a demure life partner. He’d managed to convince her that in order to keep her under his protection, she had to pose as either his wife or his sex slave. She’d chosen wife. Huh. Go figure. She said the costume required to pose as a sex slave would be chilly.

  The thought of her in a slave’s garb was intriguing but he wasn’t sure he’d be able to restrain himself if other guys were ogling her in scanty clothes. Still, he would have been able to claim he had a possessive streak. Lots of guys didn’t like other men looking at their women, wife, or slave. No, it was probably better this way. Only he knew what delights were hidden beneath that baggy tunic and pants outfit.

  Winter nodded. “I’m ready. It’s not exactly rocket science. I just have to keep my mouth shut and look to you as if I’m an idiot if they ask anything. Just like a true Provincial.”

  Trace snorted. “You’ll do fine. Keep your eyes down, look at the floorboards. Makes it look more realistic.”

  He pulled up to the guard post and brought the jeep to a halt. His timing was impeccable. The guard had just started his supper, and was annoyed at the interruption, although by the smell of it he should be thanking them. He let them go with only a cursory glance at the impeccably forged documents that Kaeden had supplied.

  “Well that went well.” Winter relaxed, propping one foot up on the dash and reaching into the back seat for a bottle of water. “Want a drink?”

  Trace made a show of gagging. “Not that stuff. It’ll rot your insides out.”

  “Water?” Winter crinkled up her nose. “I think you’re mixing it up with that rot gut you guys refer to as ale.”

  “Nope.” Trace eased the jeep a
round a hairpin turn. “Ale is good. Water is bad. You should really give up the water and switch to a good pure ale.”

  “Like the stuff they served at that pub we stayed at?” She cocked one eyebrow.

  She had a point. “Okay, not all ale is created equal, but the stuff the guys packed for us is primo. Once you try it, you’ll never go back to water.” He made a circle with his thumb and forefinger to emphasize the point.

  Winter made a face at him. “Just the same, I think I’ll stick with the water. How long is it going to take us to reach the next checkpoint?”

  Trace glanced at the navigation panel. “Not long. We’re crossing the narrowest part of the province. Maybe two hours. Then another hour to get to Desolation.” He grimaced. “What kind of name is that for a city? It’s like saying give up before you even start.”

  Winter shrugged. “No idea. Probably the idea of our illustrious government. If people get too hopeful, they’re likely to fight back and they wouldn’t want that.”

  A ghost of a smile lifted the side of Trace’s mouth. That was his girl. Heavy on the sarcasm, especially when it came to the assholes who’d used her as a human guinea pig. “Saralyn got you the info you have on your family?”

  “Yes. She did her best, but the records are sketchy. I have an ‘address of origin’ which I assume is my mother, along with a name. Kathleen O’Malley. There was nothing on my father which could mean my mother didn’t know who he was, or that he was influential enough to keep any mention of him off the records.”

  Trace frowned. “Why would he bother to do that?”

  “If he’s got a position in the government, he wouldn’t want his name connected with any of the lost kids. Kind of a career killer, you know?”

  He nodded slowly, swerving to avoid a pothole the size of a small tank. “I guess that makes sense, but the first one is probably more likely.”

  The mischievous smile on her face tempted him to just pull over and kiss her senseless. He managed to resist the urge.

  “You’re probably right, but it’s more fun to think my daddy might be a rich and famous politician.” She rolled down the window and rested her arm on the edge of the window well. “If it turns out he’s just some random bum it’ll be a big letdown.”

  “Okay, but at least a random bum won’t bother to cause you any grief.”

  “Good point.” She held her bottle of water up in a mock toast. “Here’s to random bums!”

  A companionable silence settled over them, and he found himself reluctant to break it. It wasn’t hard to imagine them as an old bonded couple who didn’t need to keep up a constant stream of mindless chatter.

  The last checkpoint loomed on the horizon, and Trace felt his nerves jump. A long line of traders were lined up to get through the station. It looked like there was a big market event coming up, and the guards were being extra careful about who got through. Or, they could just be shaking the merchants down for bribes to get across. Either way, it meant they were going to have to be careful not to raise suspicions. He really didn’t relish the idea of having to fight his way out of here with Winter by his side. Trace reached over and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  She wanted answers about her past, and although he had no idea why this was suddenly so important to her, he was going to make damn sure she got them.

  The line inched forward with the speed of a slug stranded on hot pavement. When the guard finally motioned them to drive forward and hand over their papers, Trace was bored enough he’d almost welcome a problem as a diversion.

  The guard had dreadlocks, eyes that reminded him of a snake he’d shot on his last trip through the desert, and the nastiest rash on his neck that Trace had seen outside of a dump zone. He gave their carefully prepared paperwork a disinterested glance.

  “Reason for entering my province?”

  His province. Wow, the guy sure didn’t have an ego problem. “Funeral. My brother.”

  “How come she’s going with you?” He gestured at Winter as if she were some sort of annoying pest. “She your sister?”

  “No. She’s my wife and I take her pretty much everywhere. She can look after my needs, if you get my drift.” He might as well try for the brothers-in-arms thing.

  The guard nodded, his gaze a little too interested as he measured Winter up. “You ever consider renting her out?”

  Oh crap. This just might turn into a fight after all. “No.” He infused that one word with all the ice he could muster. “I’m not a sharing kind of guy.”

  The guard shrugged, favoring him with a grin that lacked a few teeth. “Hey, no offence. Just asking. The Governor is having a big shindig to celebrate Market Days and he’s looking for some females to provide entertainment. Just thought you might be interested in making some easy money.”

  “Well, thanks, but not this time.” Trace didn’t like the way the guard’s attention kept sliding back to Winter. The sooner they got out of here, the better. He looked pointedly at the papers the guard still held in his hand. “Are we good to go now?”

  “Huh?” The guard looked down at the forged documents. “Oh yeah. Sure.” He took a step forward to hand back the papers, lowering his voice. “If you change your mind just give me a shout. I’ll make it worth your while.”

  Trace didn’t bother to reply, grateful that Winter was still sitting quietly beside him. When they cleared the checkpoint, she gave him a long hard stare, but she was bright enough not to say anything. You could never be too careful. There was always a chance of being overheard by government sympathizers.

  The corner of her mouth quivered with suppressed mirth though, and he took that as a good sign.

  Chapter Five

  “So now what?” Trace waited until they were well inside the border before pulling over. “Did Saralyn manage to pinpoint an exact location or just a broad area?”

  “We have the last known address, but it’s a couple of decades old. You know how inaccurate the new government databases have turned out to be. It’s in the old part of Desolation so I figure if we start there we may not find her but we might find someone who knows her, or can tell us where she went.”

  The chance of a woman staying in the same place for over two decades was pretty slim but you never knew. Maybe karma would be on their side and the woman was hunkered down in her ancestral home or some other fantasy come true. Then again, people with ancestral homes generally didn’t hand over their children to mad scientists.

  Trace nodded. “Desolation it is.” He slanted a glance up at the sun as it tracked its way across the cloudless sky. “Should be there in time for dinner.”

  The drive proved to be uneventful, if somewhat hot. This part of the continent consisted mostly of deserts grown out of the massive bombing attacks of the last war. With no cover from the sun, and no large bodies of water to mitigate the temperature it was uncomfortable to say the least. Unfortunately the jeep sported every new tech device Jackson could come up with, but no air conditioning. Just like a man to make sure you could get the latest sports scores, but not to consider basic comforts.

  When the town came into sight, they both heaved a sigh of relief. Trace slowed the jeep and looked over at her. “Do you want to stop for a meal first, or go straight to the old town?”

  Winter swallowed the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. So close to her goal, she suddenly realized she wasn’t sure she wanted the answers. What if it turned out her mother was as big a monster as the doctors at the lab? What earthly reason could a mother have for letting her child be used the way she and the other kids in that lab had been used?

  Procrastinating wasn’t going to help. She needed to know why she’d been abandoned to such a horrific fate. What if she was like her mother? Maybe if the baby cried too much she’d be willing to abandon it, or worse. How could she live with herself if she failed to protect her child?

  She jumped as Trace pulled the jeep to the side of the road and turned to envelop her in his warm arms. Just as
suddenly as it had started, the panic receded. She wasn’t alone. She had options, and whatever she found in the old town, she could deal with it but she needed to know for the sake of her unborn child.

  She buried her head in the crook of his shoulder, taking a deep, ragged breath. She should tell him, it was his child too. Yet another terrifying thought. Did he even like children? How would he react? They weren’t exactly a settled old couple, ready to start a family.

  “You ready now?”

  His gentle voice helped to calm her nerves. She had to do this. More than ever, she needed to know where she came from. She drew in a ragged breath and nodded. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

  The old part of town looked like any other place that had survived the Provincial Wars. The buildings were still standing, but had the weary look of survivors of a long and vicious battle. Patches of thick mud adorned the sides where bricks had been knocked out, and window glass had been replaced with scarred pieces of Plexiglas. Like so many of the human survivors, the town looked old and tired.

  “Turn left at the end of this street.” Winter studied the map. “It should be right around that corner.”

  Trace nodded, reaching out with one hand and placing it on her knee. Without looking at her, without words he let her know he was there for her.

  He’d make a great father.

  Turning the corner, Trace slowed the jeep as Winter searched for numbers on the old buildings. “We’re looking for one seventy-six so it should be on my side.” She peered at the grime-covered structures. “There’s one twenty-two. Keep going. One forty-eight… one fifty-two… There!” She pointed at a big square old house with a dilapidated porch running the full length of the front. The numbers one seven six were nailed to a board on the fascia, beneath a sign advertising rooms for rent.

  Trace pulled the jeep beside the curb and put it in park while he studied the building. “A boarding house.”