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“Don’t you do it!” Bones snarled. He took a step forward.
“Stay where you are!” Max gripped her hair, like she was a piece of property and not a human being, driving the barrel of the weapon she’d given him deeper into her skull. Just beyond them, Maddock saw two bodies lying in identical pools of blood. Tam’s agents, shot in the back during the firefight.
Bones had no choice but to stop his advance. “What do you want?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Max replied.
“You’re here for Gungnir,” Maddock said, understanding the motives behind the turncoat’s actions. “ScanoGen hired you, didn’t they? You were Hoor’s transport out of here.”
He smiled. “Sorry, gentlemen—and lady.” He yanked on Tam’s hair again for effect “They paid me a boatload of cash.”
“Money!” Tam shouted, cringing as her hair was gripped harder. “You’re doing this for money?”
Bones sneered. “Looks like you blew your chance at having dinner with her, Maxie boy.”
“Oh, we’re having that dinner,” he leaned in closer, almost touching her ear. “You see, she’s coming with me.”
“Not happening,” Tam said through gritted teeth. “And if you think that gun scares me, think again.”
Max ignored her, kept his eyes on Maddock and Bones.
“You’re ex-military, aren’t you?” Maddock said, stalling, looking for an opportunity.
“And let me guess,” Bones continued, “you were kicked to the curb for being a little too into killing people.”
Max shrugged. “My methods weren’t exactly smiled upon, so I bailed before they could charge me. They sent someone to keep tabs on me. Once I took care of him, I came here and started over. I couldn’t do the merc thing—not with them looking for me, but I knew how to fly, and this seemed like a good place to disappear. Fly tourists by day, move a little ‘duty-free’ cargo by night. I played nice over the years, offering my services to the local police force, hoping that would keep them off my scent.” He gripped Tam’s hair harder. “Can’t have the Feds mucking up my transport business, can we?”
“But you also got the attention of ScanoGen,” Maddock said. “They found out about your past and hired you.”
“More like shanghaied me,” he replied. “I refused at first, but they threatened to leak my identity to the authorities. Then, after the first payment was made, and I saw the number of zeros on its backend, I decided to hell with it, and signed on. Seeing as I’m the only pilot in Vikersund...”
“We hired you on the spot,” Tam grumbled, “We were fools.”
“Yes, you were.”
“Now what?” Bones asked, half-turning in an effort to hide his gun behind his thigh. One shot... But if he missed, he might hit Tam....
“Don’t even think about it, Osceola,” Max said, sensing his intent. “You may be a good shot, but you aren’t that good.”
Grinding his teeth, Bones stayed silent and waited.
“Gungnir,” Maddock said. “You said you wanted it, right?”
No answer. They knew what he was there for.
“We’ll get it for you,” he continued, “if you let her go.”
“Setting terms, are we?” He peeked around Tam’s head. “As far as I can see, you aren’t in a position to be telling anyone what to do.”
“True,” Maddock said, “but you don’t know where the spear is. Only I do now with Sorensen gone. And I seriously doubt you learned how to read alien inspired runes while in the service. Kill us and you’re still without your prize.”
“And don’t think you can just walk away,” Bones added. “Scano doesn’t take too kindly to failure. You might not have experience with them, but we sure as hell do.”
A sadistic smile spread across Max’s face in light of the threat. “Or I could just kill her if you don’t show me where it is,” he pulled Tam in tight. “Could you live with that?”
Bones knew he couldn’t. A glance at Maddock confirmed that he felt the same way. They’d lost too many friends in the past, including men like Haugen and Sorensen—men that were innocent and caught in the middle of something menacing.
But Bones knew Maddock almost always had some kind of backup plan. “I guess we do as he says?”
Maddock nodded.
“Not so fast,” Max said. “Leave your guns.”
Begrudgingly, they complied, setting the enormous pistols on the floor. Bones looked at Tam who simply nodded for them to go. She knew what could happen if she was left alone but that was a risk they all had to take.
As they headed down the nearby ramp, Bones whispered, “You do have a plan, right?”
Maddock murmured an affirmative. When they were a little further out of earshot, he added. “Besides, I have a feeling Tam may prove to be more of a handful than Max expects.”
“Yeah, she’s not one to play the damsel in distress,” Bones said with a snort of laughter. “That woman is beyond pissed right now. I almost kind of feel bad for the guy. Wait. No I don’t.”
––––––––
Max shoved Tam away, sending her stumbling into one of the examination tables, spilling its contents as she did. She muttered a curse under her breath, but not because of the rough handling. Close in, she might have been able to overpower Max, disarm him, but now he had created a buffer between them. If she tried to rush him, he would shoot her before she got two steps.
Shit, she thought, not wanting to do what she was about to. Ugh... Swear jar.
She took a quick breath to calm herself—and hide her rage—and then fixed Max with her best come-hither stare. “So, Max, if that’s your real name, do you honestly find me attractive, or was that all a lie, too?”
Max’s eyebrows raised slightly, but he didn’t move to her. Seeing that she had his attention, Tam hopped up onto the table, crossing her legs. The heavy winter clothes blunted any sensuality she might have hoped to convey, but it seemed like the right thing to do. She sat and faced him, leaning back in as relaxed a posture as she could muster. For good measure, she threw her shoulders back slightly, sticking her chest out more than normal, getting the desired reaction. Max’s eyes glanced down involuntarily, examining her exaggerated curves. Blinking hard, he refocused his attention, meeting her stare. She could see the lust in his eyes.
Gotcha.
“You never answered my question,” Tam said, sitting up, uncrossing her legs, then crossing them again, slowly, languorously. She needed to get him closer, preferably so she could kick the gun from his hand. He had stupidly failed to search her. Her Desert Eagle was just inches away in its holster, loaded and ready to go.
He crossed his arms, keeping his pistol in plain sight but not pointed at her. “Yes, my name is Max, but it’s not Max Nielson. And, yes, I find you very attractive.”
As he said very he stepped toward her.
Just a couple more steps, you asshole... Ugh, stupid swear jar.
“What did you have planned for dinner?” she asked, and then curled her lips in a pout of disappointment. “Or was that all a ruse too?”
She worried that she was overplaying it, being too obvious. Max would see through her charade, and punish her for trying to fool him. But she also knew that once the right buttons were pushed, for some men at least, wishful thinking took over.
But Max remained wary.
“What’s this all about?” he asked, pausing his advance.
Tam shyly shrugged, playing coy. “Would you believe it’s been a while since anyone has been that open with me?”
As a CIA officer, she had mastered the art of deception, not to mention using her looks as a distraction.
“You, really? I can’t see that.”
Tam again pretended to act timid. “Well, in my line of work, you don’t often get to that part of a conversation...” She looked around, “but since we have some time to kill...”
Accentuating the word kill seemed to make Max uncomfortable. He wasn’t as in control of himself as she originally thought. It seemed that he was acting against his true nature. While comfortable with killing, it was obvious that Max wasn’t used to taking hostages.
Especially one he likes. Tam smiled. Interesting....
“What?” Max asked.
Tam realized she’d physically reacted to her thoughts. She swiftly continued their conversation, hoping he wouldn’t see through the lie. “Oh, nothing. It’s just nice to know when you’re liked.”
Max took another step forward.
Come on, Maxie, two more.
“It’s not hard when that someone looks like you. You’re about as easy on the eyes as it gets.” He smiled. “I bet your skin is soft, too.”
Geez, he’s good. Tam thought. In another lifetime, he’d be a charmer. “Well, a girl can pamper herself sometimes, can’t she?” she retorted.
“I’m sure you can.”
Tam smiled again, reeling him in closer.
One more step you bastard.
She leaned forward and bit her lip, a move most men couldn’t resist.
Luckily for her, Max was with the majority. He took one long step forward and was met by a combo of kicks. The toe of Tam’s left boot slammed into his groin. Her right foot snapped up high and slammed right into his jaw, sending him reeling backward.
Rolling backward off the table, Tam drew Desert Eagle and fired off two wild shots, hoping it would at least send Max diving for cover. He did, giving Tam the opening she needed. Ducking down, she crawled away from the table, diagonally at first. Then, turned, chaotically zigzagged beneath the high tables, keeping their thick, four-foot-wide base supports between them.
If she could circle around and catch Max by surprise, she might be able to find the guys before they made it to Gungnir.
“You bitch!” Max shouted, spitting red-tinted saliva.
She peeked out from her hiding place and saw him struggling, trying to rise. His body refused to unclench from the bruising blow she’d delivered to his groin, but he was trying to steady himself on one of the tables, using it as a handrail. She couldn’t tell if he still had his gun.
Tam considered goading him with another retort, but decided that stealth was a preferable strategy. She scooted quietly as far as the right limit of the platform, then continued along it. She didn’t need to surreptitiously check on Max’s position; his grumbling and cursing marked his position as effectively as a radar blip. She could tell he was wandering aimlessly.
Guess I bent your compass needle, asshole, she thought, and then winced. This op was really bringing out her worst side. Probably Bones’ influence.
Moving to the far corner of the room, she ducked under the last of the tables then took a moment to catch her breath and plan her next move. Clutching the massive Desert Eagle in both hands, she got her legs beneath her and readied the weapon.
One shot would do the trick, provided she hit him. A .50 caliber Magnum round could make a man’s chest burst like one of Gallagher’s watermelons. Even a shot to a non-vital area would probably be fatal, owing to shock trauma and consequent blood loss.
But a miss was a miss, no matter how big the gun was.
Gotta get the shot off first, she thought, not getting too far ahead of herself.
Tam expected Max to have already found his discarded gun and she knew that he not only knew how to use it, but would not hesitate to do so. She would only have a fraction of a second to acquire and fire.
Holding her breath, she listened for any sign of him, but heard nothing. Either he’d stopped moving, or he had recuperated enough to be sneaky.
No help there.
Okay, 3...2...1... Now!
Tam sprang to her feet, quickly getting into a modified Isosceles shooter’s stance, her arms forming a triangle with her pistol at the apex, her body and head turning together, searching for her target.
But in the instant that she saw him, something slammed into her middle, bowling her backward.
Max had used the rows of tables like lined-up billiard balls, ramming one into another until they eventually hit her.
As she tried to rise, he bounded over the table tops, and threw himself at her. She barely rolled out of the way in time. He corrected and lashed out with a vicious kick. She threw up a forearm to block it, and felt a flare of pain on contact. The Desert Eagle flew from suddenly nerveless fingers, and slid across the platform, vanishing into the emptiness beyond.
A second swift kick clipped the side of her head, brushing her hair back, but doing little else. Rolling again, she sprang to her feet, turned and faced him.
Max’s face was painted in blood—his own—and he was still hunched over, visibly smarting from her attack to his southern regions. He was hurting, and she thought that just might be enough to make up for his superior size and strength in hand-to-hand battle to the death. If it wasn’t enough, then at least she’d go down swinging.
Then Max reached behind his back and drew out a long-bladed combat knife.
“Well, crap,” she murmured, and for once, didn’t even think about the swear jar.
Max advanced, slashing the air between them. Tam retreated a step, looking around frantically for something to use to block his attack. The only thing within reach was the oversized upper arm bone of one of the long-deceased experimental subjects. The rest of the disarticulated skeleton had been scattered to the ground when Max shoved the table.
She snatched it up and held it in front of her, ready to parry any slash that got too close. The bone was called the humerus, if she remembered her anatomy correctly. She could almost hear Bonebrake’s making some ridiculous quip about that. The old bone wouldn’t be a very effective defensive weapon, to say nothing of having almost no offensive capabilities, and there was nothing “humerus” about that. She needed to get clear of the jumbled tables and make a run for it.
Max darted forward and stabbed at her lower abdomen. She easily side-stepped, and whacked his wrist with the old humerus. To her amazement, the blow felt solid, the bone a little more substantial than she had expected. Growling, Max drew back, and the slashed up, aiming for her neck. She swatted the blade away, and then jabbed the knobby end of the bone at his face, connecting solidly with his forehead.
As Max staggered back, she flung the bone at him, and then scrambled over the obstacle maze toward the ramp Maddock and Bones had left by.