Page 32 of D-Day

“By Lando?” he said angrily.

“No. By whoever is fighting out there. I’m not sure.” She took a shuddering breath. “Your brother left him behind.”

“What?” He was visibly upset, and Helen knew it was now or never to talk to him.

“You’re not like your brother. Ruthless.”

He looked away. “Lando has always provided for our family and taken care of some of the unpleasant tasks of our business. I’m not always aligned with him, but he does what he thinks is best.”

“Like leaving people to die, and weapons of mass destruction?”

His mouth tightened, and he swallowed hard. “What are you talking about?”

“That…Australian…” she said with as much disgust and disdain she could muster, “said as much.”

Before she could say another word, Taer called out and the guards came in and bustled her out. Lando passed her with a dark look as he entered his brother’s room. The door slammed behind him, and she could hear a terrible argument between thetwins. When he stalked out, he stopped in front of her, his eyes narrowing, a flush of anger on his cheeks.

“Don’t you dare, Lando,” Taer said from his bed. With a snarl and some very bad Filipino words, he stalked off.

She slipped back into the room and sat next to him. Taer looked terrible, and not all of it was physical. “What is it?” she asked.

He swallowed hard. “You were right. He’s selling nuclear triggers to the NPA.” Shock and horror jolted through her. Nuclear triggers? Oh, God. No wonder Bailee and the SEALs were here. If the NPA used them against the government, it would naturally involve all the Americans here, devastate their country and economy and destroy the environment. “I told him to stop the deal. Destroy them, but he won’t listen to me. Our country will be devastated if those bastards use those weapons.”

“Do you know where they are? When is the deal happening?” Her resolve hardened. She couldn’t give any quarter to Taer, her sympathy now tempered by the vital information that she needed to manipulate out of him. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do with that information. All she could do was fly by the seat of her pants until she came up with a solid plan.

He took a hard breath. “Three days from now, and I don’t know where they are.” He closed his eyes, groaning a little. “But I will find out.”

“Are you in pain?” He opened his eyes and nodded, and she gave him another injection, bolstered by the strong conviction in his voice. As he slipped back to sleep, she was optimistic that she could get the location of the triggers.

When she went back out into the main room, Lando hadn’t settled down. He was still livid. He stared at her, violence in his eyes. “You better pray that my brother survives.”

The threat hung in the air between them, chilling her to the bone. It wasn’t anything she was sure about, but before herexpectation was that he would simply kill her outright, and now she wasn’t so sure.

Suddenly, there was a commotion outside, and Helen walked to the window to look outside. Men were milling around crowding someone who walked with a purpose. Then he pushed them away, and D-Day stalked out of a gray-white mist that swirled and wrapped around him like a cloak, as if he was materializing, an avenging spirit of the vast, verdant jungle, and for a moment, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her. She made a soft sound, expecting that Lando would think it was in dismay when it was nothing but freaking, everlasting joy.

And he was that dangerous gunslinger again, glittering like gold, his skin burnished bronze, every muscle delineated by the dim light, and the rain slicking in rivulets down over those heavy biceps. Brooding and intense, he was intensely male in as basic and primal a way as the seething jungle. He’d been trained by the toughest force on the planet into an elite combat weapon, taught to think two steps ahead of the enemy while under fire, underwater, outmanned, and on the hunt. He was the Big Bad Wolf at the door and unbeknownst to Lando, he was Little Red Riding Hood. But he wouldn’t have to huff and puff to blow it down. He would just burst right through it.

If there was anyone who could get her out of a camp full of dangerous men, it would be D-Day.

Just like that, he was her solid plan.

The door opened and D-Day and Zorro walked through, both heavily armed. Lando glared at them, then dismissed the guards with a shake of his head.

“Hey, mate,” D-Day said, in a deceptively casual voice, the underlying tension rolling off him in waves. He didn’t even spare her a glance, treating her as if she was insignificant when she was sure she was anything but. She was the reason he was here, and the mission. They were one and the same. Zorro, on theother hand, gave her a onceover like the medic he was, his eye keen for any injuries. He grinned at her and winked, and she suddenly felt so much better.

D-Day stalked across the room and got into Lando’s face. “You stood me up. I don’t like that.” He was once again in character, his Aussie accent smooth as silk.

“Yeah,” Zorro quipped, making a sad face. “He’s sensitive.”

“Yeah, mate. I’m sensitive.” D-Day’s face hardened. “We have business to conduct.”

“I got waylaid. My brother got shot and we had to move out of that area. If you’re not aware,mate, the NPA and the government are locking horns.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck. World War III could erupt and I’m still sensitive about my bottom line.”Geezus, Butler was a complete asshole, Helen thought. “You have the weapons, now you produce the payment, and we’re golden.”

Lando nodded, realizing that fucking over Graham Butler was a very bad move, especially when he was in possession of the Aussie’s top-tier weapons. There was a deal on the table. “I apologize for the miscommunication.” Lando walked over to a place on the floor, hunkered down, and pulled up a loose board where a safe lay. He punched in the code and then pulled out a small leather sack.

Rising, he walked over to D-Day and set it in his outstretched palm. D-Day undid the drawstring and dumped out the glittering gems in the pouch. “Yeah, good on ya. These are beauts. Diamonds are the best form of currency.Fair dinkum, mate. We’re square, and I won’t have to cut out your heart.”

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