The Last Bullet by Merline Lovelace released on Jun 14, 2005 is available now for purchase.
The Last Bullet
By Merline LovelaceMIRA
Copyright © 2005 Merline Lovelace
All right reserved.ISBN: 0778321819Former USAF special agent turned private security consultant Cleo North crouched behind a dripping rhododendron bush and blinked the chilly, early May rain out of her eyes. Chewing on the inside of her lip, she worked a hair-thin wire through the cable box of a neat, single-story Denver bungalow.
The high-powered executive who'd hired her to beef up his security staff was inside the bungalow. He was either: (a) being held hostage by the thugs he'd gotten crosswise of in a not-so-shrewd business deal; (b) hiding from said thugs; or (c) sneaking in a little afternoon delight with his mistress of the moment.
Whatever the situation, he'd voluntarily or otherwise deactivated the sophisticated security systems Cleo had installed in his office. He'd waited until Cleo had gone down to the cafeteria for lunch to exit Worldwide Systems' high-rise corporate headquarters by the back stairs, then disabled the GPS tracking device she'd installed in his car.
Cleo had tracked him via the device she'd concealed in the heel of his shoe after the last time he slipped off to conduct a little "personal business." She'd been tempted to walk away from the job altogether at that point, but the exec's wife had received a phone call advising her that her husband was a dead man if he didn't withdraw his bid on a multi-million-dollar contract to construct a new shopping mall. The very real threat — and the outrageous fees this bozo was paying — had outweighed her growing disgust with the man.
If she found him with his pants around his ankles, though, she was outta here! North Security and Investigations, Inc., didn't need his hefty retainer. Cleo has as much business as she and her part-time staff could handle. Particularly since the air force had tapped her to work some very interesting cases lately. With very sexy OSI agent Jack Donovan, who was, at this very moment, in D.C. unraveling the tangled threads from their last adventure.
Hunching her shoulders against the rain, Cleo fed the wire in another few inches, just enough for its ultrasensitive fibers to pick up sounds inside the bungalow. Her client had given her permission to install whatever devices she deemed appropriate to his safety. His authority didn't specify this location, but Cleo wasn't too concerned about that minor technicality at the moment.
Shoving her wet hair out of her eyes, she activated the receiver and tugged on a headset. She heard a thud, magnified to ear-pounding proportions, then an agonized scream.
"No!"
The screeching, megawatt decibels sent Cleo staggering back into the rhododendrons. She hit the ground butt-first, sputtering as the leafy petals shook and gave her another drenching.
"Oh, God, no! Noooo!"
That could be the scream of a woman at the peak of a mind-blowing orgasm, but Cleo's instincts said otherwise. Her client hadn't struck her as the type who would take the time to bring a woman to that kind of shattering release.
Tearing off the headset, she scrambled to her feet and reached under her jacket for the 10 mm Glock holstered at the small of her back. No time to call for backup. She'd have to use the element of surprise to best advantage.
She raced around to the rear of the bungalow, jerked up her knee and had her boot heel aimed at the back door when it was suddenly wrenched open.
Her client froze just inside the portal. He was naked, wild-eyed with terror and bleeding like a stuck pig from the pulpy mass that used to be his nose.
"Cleo! Thank God! Get me out of here."
The first rule of protective services was to hustle the protectee away from danger. Cleo would have done just that if another agonized scream hadn't ripped from the front of the house.
"Who's that?"
"Never mind her." Panting, the bare-assed exec tried to bulldoze past her. "I'm the one who's paying you."
"Wait, dammit! Tell me how many are inside."
"Two hired bruisers and Janie. Let's get out of here!"
The thud of pounding footsteps added frenzy to his efforts. He shoved Cleo aside and plunged into the rain.
She let him go. No way she was leaving a woman to be brutalized by two hired sleazoids. She was ready when a beefy thug barreled into the kitchen, a
.45 clutched in a fist that showed bloody, skinned knuckles. He did a double take when he spotted Cleo, which gave her more than sufficient time to fire. She shot the .45 out of his fist, making sure she took a good portion of appendage with it.
He doubled over, howling and clutching his arm to his chest. Cleo dropped him with a swift chop to the neck and kicked his weapon out of reach under the stove.
As she anticipated, the ruckus brought the second thug running. He pumped out two wild shots before she took him down with one to the kneecap. He fell forward, just happening to make contact with Cleo's knee on the way. His jaw cracked. His head snapped back. His eyes rolled.
Satisfied he was out cold, she scooped up his weapon and continued down the hall to find a naked, sobbing Janie huddled in a tight ball on the bedroom floor. Her face, too, was a pulpy mass, making Cleo wish to hell she'd aimed for more vital areas than hands and knees.
She helped the woman up, holding her awkwardly with one arm. With the other, she reached for the cell phone clipped to her waist.
"It's okay," Cleo murmured. "You'll be okay. I'm calling 911."
Continues...Excerpted from The Last Bulletby Merline Lovelace Copyright © 2005 by Merline Lovelace. Excerpted by permission.
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