Cam met the man’s gaze. He let Mikhailov see the full force of what he felt.
Mikhailov’s gaze dropped to the ground.
“I want him dead,” Cam growled.
Saskia’s hold on him tightened. She pressed her palm flat over his gut.
“We’re going to hand him over to the feds. They’ll question him, and he’ll go to prison.” Killian’s voice lowered. “And he’ll have to watch his back for the rest of his miserable life.”
Damn, the guy was scary.
“We finally met someone scarier than you, Norcross,” Saxon said, echoing Cam’s thoughts.
Vander grunted.
“So, he just gets to live out a cushy life in prison?” Saskia snapped, her eyes sparking.
“Where he’s going is hardly cushy,” Killian said, dryly.
Cam was sure Mikhailov was destined for some harsh, secret prison. He couldn’t see Hawke being happy unless the guy paid the full price for his actions.
“After everything he’s done.” Saskia threw her hands in the air. “All the women he’s hurt, violated, and probably murdered?” She wrenched free of Cam and darted toward Mikhailov.
“Saskia—” Cam lunged for her.
But she was wound up and determined. She kicked Mikhailov in the gut.
The man groaned. She kicked him between the legs. And kicked him again.
The sound he made had even Cam wincing.
“Okay, sweetheart.” Cam picked her up. She struggled, legs kicking.
“He deserves so much worse than this,” she growled.
“I know, but I’m more worried about you right now,” Cam said.
She clamped her legs around his waist. He slid his hands under her ass, holding her. The fury drained out of her, and he pressed his forehead against hers.
“Take me home, Cam,” she whispered.
“I will.”
He saw Killian watching them, and then after a moment, the man nodded.
Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but Cam didn’t give a shit.
“Our SUVs are not far from here,” Vander said. “We came in on foot.”
Cam set Saskia down.
“I’ll drive one back,” Wolf said, his voice a deep rumble.
“I’ll come with you.” Saxon joined the man.
It wasn’t long before the joint Norcross-Sentinel team had the dead bodies, zip-tied guards and Mikhailov loaded in Vander’s vehicle.
Saxon temporarily patched the bullet graze on Cam’s arm to stop the bleeding. He might need some stitches, but it would do for now. Cam helped Saskia into the back of a black Jeep Grand Cherokee.
Nearby, Killian held a hand up. A small drone—like nothing Cam had ever seen before—flew down and the man grabbed it out of the air. Cam had seen a lot of high-tech military stuff before, but nothing like the small, sleek device.
“One of Hex’s toys,” Saskia said. “Sentinel does a lot of cybersecurity. They have good gadgets.”
“You all right?” he asked.
She leaned her head on his shoulder, so trusting. Getting comfort from him.
The cold knot in his gut was gone. It had untangled and thawed out. He couldn’t help but think Kris would be happy for them.
Man, she’s way too good for you, Morgan. Hold on to her. Make her happy.
They turned onto the road.
“Where are we exactly?” There were stunning mountains in the distance, but the dense trees and ranches didn’t help narrow it down.
“Just outside of Red Lodge,” Killian said. “The ranch belongs to a Russian-American businessman. He owed Mikhailov some favors.”
Vander’s vehicle with the prisoners was in front of them. Wolf was driving their SUV, with Killian in the passenger seat.
“We’ll get you on the jet, and we’ll be home in a few hours.” Then, once they were alone, Cam wanted to tell her again that he’d fallen in love with her.
She smiled, and tucked her hair behind her ear.
He dropped a quick kiss to her lips.
“Quit kissing my sister.”
Cam looked up. Killian was staring straight ahead.
“Nope.” Cam kissed her again, and Saskia giggled.
“Guy’s got balls,” Wolf muttered.
Fifteen minutes passed, then Cam sensed the two men in front tense. He looked up.
“We have company,” Wolf murmured.
Cam looked back over his shoulder. Three black Mercedes SUVs were speeding up behind them.
“Fuck,” Killian spat.
The lead vehicle overtook them and swerved in front of Vander’s. Another pulled alongside them, and the other blocked them in from behind.
Cam gripped Saskia.
“What now?” she groaned.
“Hawke, I need a gun,” Cam said.
Wolf slammed on the brakes. Their little convoy came to a halt on the empty road.
“You won’t need a gun, Morgan.” Killian shoved open his door and stepped out of the vehicle. He stalked around and headed toward the central Mercedes.
“What the fuck is going on?” Cam asked.
Ahead, he saw Vander and Saxon step out of the SUV, Glocks in hand and held by their sides.
“Feds,” Wolf said.
The back door of the central Mercedes opened, and a woman got out.
She wore a black turtleneck and slim, black pants. Russet-red hair was pulled up in a bun, with bangs brushing over a beautiful face. She had sharp cheekbones, a sculpted nose, and sunglasses covering her eyes. She wasn’t smiling.
Killian strode toward her. The woman strode to meet him.
Saskia leaned forward. “Who is that?”
“The bane of Steel’s existence, and the object of all his desires,” Wolf muttered.
Saskia snorted. “I didn’t know you enjoyed historical romance shows, Wolf.”
The big man blinked and looked back at her blankly. “What?”
“That phrase—”
“Hex said it,” Wolf growled.
“Oh, well.” Saskia’s gaze moved back to her brother facing off with the redhead.
Some sharp words were clearly being traded.
“She’s FBI?” Saskia asked.
“No.”
“CIA?”
“Not exactly,” Wolf said.
Killian leaned in. Unconcerned, the woman crossed her arms and lifted her chin.
“He’s toast,” Cam murmured.
“Yep,” Wolf agreed.
A moment later, agents spilled out of the Mercedes. Mikhailov and his goons were transferred to the government SUVs.
Then the redhead smiled, swiveled, and sauntered back to her vehicle.
Cam was in love with Saskia, but only a dead man wouldn’t appreciate that view.
Killian got back in the vehicle, anger throbbing off him.
“You were going to hand Mikhailov over anyway.” Wolf said.
“Just drive,” Killian snapped.
Cam smiled and kissed the top of Saskia’s head. She was watching her brother and grinning.
Chapter Twenty
As the private jet rolled to a stop, Saskia jolted awake.
She was half sprawled on Cam. God, she hoped she hadn’t drooled on him.
Across from her, Vander sat, legs stretched out in front of him, and eyes closed. His hands rested over his flat stomach. Asleep, she could actually look at him without the force of his nature making her nervous. He was really good-looking, even with his rough edge.