A View to a Thrill (Masters and Mercenaries Book 7) by Lexi Blake Page B

Chelsea did as Simon asked, dialing the number from memory. Charlotte had forced her to memorize the team’s numbers in case she found herself in a bind—or with a death squad on her heels. Jesse answered on the second ring and Chelsea gave him Simon’s code.
    “Understood.” The code seemed to mean something to Jesse as he hung up.
    “He was a little abrupt. Does that mean he’s coming to get us?”
    “Yes. He’ll drop whatever he was doing and get here as fast as he can. If he was at home that should only be a few moments. He’s two blocks down from here.” Simon made quick work of the stairs but that was when they heard the door open above them. Simon stopped and flattened against the wall.
    “It won’t do any good, Weston,” a voice from above said. “I’m not alone and while you’ve got great aim, those bullets you’re using won’t get through the vests we’re wearing. We’re far better armed and protected than any army you’ve come against before.”
    “Shit,” Simon cursed under his breath.
    “Fortunately for you, we’re also more reasonable than most armies,” the should-have-been-dead man said in a flat, Midwestern tone. “All we want is the package Mr. Krum sent to your girl and we’ll be more than happy to live and let live. As long as she hasn’t opened it, of course. To tell you the truth, we would greatly prefer to employ Miss Dennis than to fight with her.”
    “You’re with The Collective.” Simon’s arms tightened around her. He had his back out, shielding her from any bullet that might come their way.
    She looked up at him. They’d dealt with The Collective a couple of times before. Just a few days ago, she’d been working on an op in Europe involving the shadowy organization made up of some of the world’s most powerful companies and wealthiest men. They’d formed a sort of star chamber that oversaw the interests of the companies involved from corporate espionage to murder for hire. They seemed to love recruiting former intelligence agents.
    Simon glanced at the door below them and Chelsea followed his line of vision. There were roughly half a dozen steps, but he would have to give up his defensive position to get there. The stairs wound around with a good-sized rectangular space dividing them that would give an assassin a distinct advantage. Simon couldn’t see behind him, but she could. Asshole Number One was two flights above them, but he seemed to be standing in the back, unwilling to take the chance that Simon could get a shot off. Chelsea was just waiting for Asshole Number Two, and possibly Three, to show up.
    Not that it had mattered. Simon had caught the dude squarely in the chest twice. He should have been dead from the loss of his lungs, but he just kept on talking because The Collective was nothing if not on the cutting edge of technology.
    “My team represents a group of businessmen who have a vested interest in the package that was sent to you. It’s very important that we have that package returned to us. Miss Dennis, if you’ll come with me, we’ll allow Weston to live. If not, we’ll simply kill him and take you anyway.”
    Simon’s eyes met hers, narrowing, his voice low. “Don’t you listen to him.”
    “Have you thought about what we could do for you?” The man’s voice had taken on a soothing quality. “We have medical equipment and therapies that are years away from becoming public. If you worked for us, you would have doctors at your disposal who could not only fix your legs, but make them better than before. And the tech…oh, you have no idea what’s coming.”
    She had no doubt any deal she made with them would be a deal with the devil. “I bet Al didn’t know what was coming either.”
    “That was unfortunate, but I think you’ll be smarter than Mr. Krum, won’t you? You won’t snap at the hand that feeds you. You would be grateful to someone who could fix your legs, wouldn’t you?”
    The thought of standing tall and