Part 17 (1/2)

Darcy offered him a tight smile and raised an eyebrow at Emmy until the other woman scooted down the couch. Then she sat on the couch beside him-so close, his thigh heated with the contact.

”Listen up,” Captain Springer called for their attention. ”The deal's going down tonight. Rupe King's boat is coming in with a s.h.i.+pment of c.o.ke. When Nicky meets the boat at the dock, he'll get a little more than he bargained for.”

Having been filled in on Rupe King's role in the bust by Max, Quentin listened as the captain issued instructions to the team.

”I'd like to extend a welcome to Dylan and Emmy O'Hara.” The captain nodded to the couple. ”Seattle vouched for you, Mr. O'Hara. I'll appreciate your input as this goes down, but this is my operation. My team is trained, and I wouldn't like either you or your wife to be hurt in the crossfire.”

Dylan nodded his understanding. ”We'll be standing by to a.s.sist.”

Unexpectedly, Darcy's hand settled on Quentin's thigh, and he covered it with his own, giving her a squeeze. No one seemed to notice, as all gazes were on the captain.

”We'll go in with crossbows and a.s.sault rifles. The Vero Beach PD has already cleared the dock of civilians.” The captain paused, and his gaze swept each of his team. ”It goes without saying that we're taking out every one of Nicky's gang. Give no quarter.”

The team came to their feet and filed out the door.

Quentin caught Darcy's hand when she rose to follow.

Her glance was questioning.

”Perhaps you should sit this one out, love,” he suggested quietly.

A frown furrowed her forehead. ”Not now, Quentin. You can't wrap me in cotton wool. I'm part of this team, and tonight is our biggest operation to date. This is my job.”

Quentin had known she'd refuse. Oh h.e.l.l, he should just tell her. Or better yet, tie her to her iron bed and let her rage at him.

She tugged her hand from his.

Quentin sighed and stood to follow. He hadn't the right to come between her and her ambitions. But tonight, he'd stick close to her shapely a.s.s and make sure she didn't run into trouble.

This would be her last dangerous a.s.signment for a while. He'd tell her why later.

The radio crackled in Darcy's ear. ”Nicky and his crew just pulled into the marina,” the captain said from the command post-the team's van in the parking area. ”Remember, we'll wait to strike until he brings in his men to move the cargo.”

Thank G.o.d! She'd been afraid she would disgrace herself. The wait had been interminable. The storm that threatened to break over their heads had whipped up waves in the inlet, setting all the boats tied to the dock bobbing in the water. Her stomach pitched right along with them. Odd, since she'd never suffered from motion sickness before. Must be nerves.

”I'm gonna barf if this doesn't go down soon,” Phil moaned.

Soft chuckles sounded from seven mikes. Darcy commiserated with Phil. Glad she hadn't eaten any dinner, she kept silent beside Quentin, nausea roiling in her belly and clammy perspiration breaking on her forehead. This was one stakeout she'd be happy to see end.

”Too many of Bets' meatb.a.l.l.s, Phil?” Emmy broke in, her voice full of sympathy.

”G.o.d, don't mention them,” he groaned.

Above the sound of the gathering wind, footsteps echoed hollowly on the wooden planks of the dock. Quentin crouched so close behind her, she felt his body grow rigid. It felt right to have him watching her back, even though she still missed Joe. They'd taken up a position on the cabin cruiser tied next to Rupe King's. Hunkered down behind the boat's gunwale, they listened tensely for the order to move in for the kill.

Quentin had stuck to her like glue all evening. It was annoying, but sweet, how protective he was of her. And totally unnecessary. When things turned ugly-and they would-she'd be moving fast. She didn't want to trip over him.

The rumble of voices sounded in the next boat, but the men spoke too low to make out their words. A sudden burst of laughter erupted and a door opened, spilling light from the cabin onto the dock.

Darcy rose to peek over the rail, but Quentin's heavy hand pushed her down. She turned to give him a glare. ”What do you think you're doing?” she whispered angrily.

”Shhh.” He lifted his chin in the direction of the other boat.

Darcy saw one of Nicky's boys on the bow with a radio next to his ear.

”Tell them it's clear,” the teen said.

Ignoring Darcy's glower, Quentin whispered into his headset, ”Get ready. Nicky's lookout has given the all-clear. The others will be closing on the boat.”

”Roger that,” Max replied quietly. ”No one moves until I give the signal.”

With the team in position on neighboring boats and inside cars in the marina, the gang would be encircled in moments.

Darcy held her breath. Once the noose tightened, Nicky would react like a trapped animal. She'd seen the mayhem he was capable of when he held all the cards, now she'd get a glimpse of a monster in full rage.

The heavy tread of half a dozen of Nicky's ”soldiers” echoed dully in the night.

Darcy hugged her crossbow to her chest and concentrated on the sound of her breaths to make her racing heart slow its pace and give her thoughts focus. Slower, calmer, centered. She drew on her inner reserve of peace, visualizing the team's victory.

She was ready.

”Get c.o.c.ked,” the captain said.

Darcy rose on her knees, lifted her bow, sighted down the shaft of her arrow, and then rose a fraction higher to point it over the railing. In the dim light provided by the lamps strung from boat slip to boat slip, Darcy couldn't sight on Nicky. ”I don't see him,” she whispered.

”Must still be in the cabin,” Max replied. ”Take out the men on the dock you can see when I give the order.”

With the deck of the boat pitching beneath her knees, Darcy struggled for balance. ”I'll take the first in line.”

”I've got the second target,” Max said.

Once the team had selected their marks, the radios went silent. The only sounds came from boats nudging their slips and booted feet stomping wood.

Suddenly, one of Nicky's men lifted his nose into the wind.

”Now!” Max shouted.

Darcy pulled back on her trigger, letting her arrow fly. Her first target staggered, and then disintegrated. She reached for her next arrow, and Quentin leapt over the gunwale and landed on the narrow walkway between the two boats.

The rapid tattoo of gunfire erupted, and her team members shouted in their mikes as they took cover.

Cursing beneath her breath, Darcy quickly pulled back her bowstring, latched it in the spring clip, and slid the arrow along the track. Armed, she slipped over the gunwale, intent on following Quentin.

From all along the dock came the sounds of the ensuing battle. Curses and the sharp staccato of machine gun fire ripped through the night.

”How many?” Max asked.

”I counted nine,” the captain said, his voice sounding raspy as he ran along the dock to join the fight.