Page 1 of Raider Unleashed

1

Piper Holloway gritted her teeth. She hated Stephen Wallis with a startling intensity, but she had to suck it up. His nickname was Slick which she had no doubt he’d given to himself but she thought of him more as Slug or Slimy.

“What do ya think, Pipe? You in?” Slug took a sip of his Starbucks. He was never without a cup in his hand. He was so caffeinated he could do the jitterbug standing still. She’d bumped into him one day and a bit spilled. From a tough-as-nails man, she’d thought the brew would be black as his demeanor, so she had been mildly shocked when something light and foamy spilled. Smelled more like vanilla and cinnamon than smoke and sin.

He shifted his weight and moved his feet in time to his caffeinated rhythm as he glanced around the decrepit parking garage. He tucked a gun in the waist band at the front of his jeans. Piper entertained herself by estimating the exact day and time he was going to shoot his balls off. Careless, especially with all his antsy movement from too much caffeine. She'd pay really literally anything to be there to witness the fallout.

Another thing… She hated being called Pipe. Just one more damn thing to add to the growing list of complaints about the slug in front of her. “Sure, I’m up for anything.” She stood with her arms crossed over her chest and tried to keep her face neutral. Slug had a habit of glancing at her boobs and it pissed her off to no end. Honestly, the number of times she’d cleared her throat in conversation with him and pointed to her eyes was dumbfounding.

Slug grinned and clapped his hands. “That’s what I told him. I knew you’d be in.”

“Told who?” Unease shivered up her spine. When Slug had called, she debated not answering. The last thing she needed was to deal with him. History had taught her that he’d screw her over in a heartbeat. She sighed. He was also a guy with all the right connections, which meant she had to deal with him if she wanted to hit her goals.

The smile fell off his face. “It doesn’t matter. He needed a driver and an extra set of hands. That’s you.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and punched in what was probably a text. Within seconds, she received a text. “Did you text me?” she asked pulling out her phone.

Slug shook his head. “No. The boss did.”

She glanced at the screen. Sweat broke out between her shoulder blades. “What is this? Is this a plane ticket?”

“Yup. You got three hours. You’d better hustle.” Slug pushed off the wall pillar and started walking with a funky hop-step gait toward the stairwell.

A scream climbed her throat, followed closely by the same sickening panic that was residual from dealing with Slug. What had he gotten her into? What the fuck was she supposed to do? She didn’t want to go anywhere, and three hours wasn’t enough time to organize anything anyway.

She hollered after Slug. “Wait, what the hell is this? You never said I had to get on an airplane.”

Slug danced around to face her with a grin. “What’s the matter, Pipe? You afraid of flyin’?”

Flying was the least of her worries. “No, but I thought the job was here in San Diego.” She tried to be calm, sound whiny even because there was no way she could let him in on the fact that she was now in a full-blown panic. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

Slug grinned wickedly. “You thought wrong, baby.”

That was it. A fast and furious urge to kill the slug rose within her. She wanted to pull the gun out of her pocket and cap the asshole. “You neglected to tell me it was out of town.” She shrugged. “I don’t know if I want to do it anymore.”

Slug froze for an instant. He turned and started back toward her at a clip. He stopped directly in front of her. His expression was set in serious lines, like stick a penny in the crags and Lincoln’s head might disappear. His eyes darted rapidly, but at least he wasn’t looking at her tits. Small comfort considering the tight, flat slash that should be his mouth.

This close she realized Slug was much older than she thought. He had to be in his forties. He dressed and acted younger but the crevasses on his face said he had to be at least a decade older than her thirty-three. She’d never been this close to him before by design, and his nearness now was only solidifying her choice. Slug smelled. Fat man sweat, underlain with an acrid tang. Slug smelled of fear.

He growled, “You said you were up for anything. You said yes. You have to go. I told him you were going. You don’t go and it won’t be good for you, Piper. It’ll be all bad. Very bad. Like deadly. And it won’t be good for me either, so you get the fuck on that plane, you feel me?”

Slug’s blue eyes were wide and his breath was coming in gasps. His pasty skin had gone paler which she didn’t think was possible. The man in front of her wasn’t just scared. He was terrified.

Her escalating pulse made it hard to catch a breath. “Who the hell is this job for? What the fuck have you gotten me into?” Piper demanded.

Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she was certain she knew who was behind it. Not his name, of course, but she knew who it was. The man she nicknamed the Snake had to be behind this curtain of secrecy. Had to be. He’d killed Marta and she would do anything to exact her revenge. For that reason alone, pushing aside her trepidations would be worth it. She wanted him to suffer before she killed him.

Slug leaned forward so they were almost nose to nose. “It don’t matter who it is, you just make sure as fuck”—he poked her shoulder—“you are on that plane or we’re both dead.”

Piper swallowed convulsively, trying to avoid puking. This visceral reaction couldn’t be the nearly overwhelming alarm ringing through her. Nope. It was Slug’s putrid breath that was making her stomach revolt.

“Fine,” she said as she brushed past him. “I’ll be on the plane, but this is the last fucking time I’m answering your call, asshole.” She went into the stairwell and ran down the three stories. Then turned left when she got to the street. The old green Passat she loved was parked at the curb. Getting in, she turned it over and pulled away from the curb just as Slug came out of the garage. She drove for another ten minutes trying to get her heart to climb down out of the stratosphere. Finally, she felt calm enough to pull over and pick up her cell. She dialed a number she knew by heart.

“Yeah,” said the voice on the other end.

Overjoyed to share this snafu with someone else, Piper let out the breath she’d been holding. “We’ve got a major problem.”

2

Raider Torres was in his version of paradise. Wasn’t he the luckiest SOB in the world, to be standing in the headquarters building of the Brotherhood Protector’s Hawaiian ranch, watching the monitor with a map of the Big Island on it? A familiar and welcome surge of adrenaline ran through his veins. He’d arrived on the Big Island of Hawai’i to attend his old commanding officer’s retirement party.

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