Page 55 of Valkyrie

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“No. The job isn’t done.” She put the jacket on and buttoned it up before putting her hands on her hips. “We’re a team.”

Smith knew they had a finite amount of time before someone would retire to the staff’s quarters and find them. “Meat hooks.” He nodded to the refrigerated vault. Val was on it as he dragged the whimpering Blanton to the transition area between railroad cars. Val skittered to a stop at the door and handed him an iron hook. “What are you going to do?”

“Get rid of evidence and send a signal.”

He dropped Blanton to the floor. Grabbing the hook in his hand, he lifted it above his head and rammed it into Blanton’s abdomen, shoving the hook through the man’s rib cage. “Ew. Warn a woman, will you,” Val said from behind him. She flicked off some fresh blood from her face.

Smith couldn’t help the chuff of laughter. He grabbed ahold of the ladder and dragged Blanton up after him, then slid the now dead man to the side of the car and wedged the handle of the meat hook into a metal pole anchored lengthways into the top of the car. He kicked Blanton’s body over the side. In the dark, no one would see the body. No one except Harbinger when he was looking for a sign in the early morning light.

Val was at the top of the ladder, watching him. “I’ll get three more meat hooks.” As she disappeared from the ladder, he stood up, panting from the effort it took to haul Blanton’s dead weight up the ladder. The moon and stars shone with the brilliance of a million points of light. The cool air rushed across his hot skin, and he rolled his shoulders. He was no longer a hired killer, a murderer, and a criminal. He had a higher purpose. He would spend his life defending those who had no protector, hunting down and killing the monsters of the world. This time he’d killed for the right reason, and the difference was legion. The weight of his past life lifted like dust and floated away on the breeze caused by the slow-moving train. For the first time in his life, he belonged, mattered to someone, and had a purpose. Smith moved to the ladder. There was still work to do.

18

Val walked in front of Smith as they slowly made their way over the roof of the kitchen car. They’d moved the bodies and hastily cleaned the blood from the floors using the materials found in the supply car. All evidence, including her shredded dress and shoes, was pitched off the train.

The kitchen staff below them laughed and drank as they cleaned for the night, or perhaps they were prepping for the morning meal. The skylights in the kitchen car gave both her and Smith the intel they needed. The staff was relaxed, so the parade of people through the kitchen was nothing new. Interesting, but Val didn’t have the energy to wonder why. She’d accept the gift. They made their way from car to car. She chuckled as she thought of the movies where the heroes and bad guys jumped from car to car as the train moved. Ridiculous and risky. They used the ladder to go down, crossed the transition, and climbed up the next car. At their sleeping car, Smith entered the hall first and made his way to their quarters. He blocked the hallway with his frame, and she sprinted down the hall and into the small compartment. It would be tough to explain her wearing only his coat and splattered in smeared blood.

She waited for him to shut the door and dropped into his big body, completely exhausted. His arms came around her, and they stood like that, rocking gently with the train for several minutes. “I’ve never had this. Someone to … decompress with.” She sighed and arched her back, staring up at him. “You have impressive skills.”

Smith didn’t say anything for a moment. “Did he hurt you? You know what I mean.” He moved the lapel of his jacket and traced the bruise forming around the bite mark on her chest.

Val shook her head. “I played the victim until I could get to my weapons, then it was game over.”

“I saw the evidence of the end game when I drove a meat hook through his chest.” His lip twitched upward. “I hated hearing what was happening.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Is it wrong that I like you hating it?”

“No.” He bent down and kissed her, almost reverently. “Go, shower. I want him off you.”

Val nodded. So did she. She showered quickly but scrubbed where Komal’s hands had touched her with extra effort. They switched places, and Smith showered while she dressed in blue jeans, a navy sweater, and running shoes. She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail and spun it into a bun, pinning it into place. On their run from the train, she’d cover her hair with a cap. Val laid out his clothes for him and watched as he dressed. His body was magnificent, and she’d never tire of looking at him. Or being with him, for that matter. He was a rock of stability, kindness, and support. She’d hold on to him with every iota of strength she possessed because she’d been floating without solid ground under her feet for far too long.

As Smith tied his shoes, he asked, “How much time do we have?”

“Not long now. We should rest while we can.”

“Good plan.” He sat down and held out his hand. She moved from where she was onto the bed with him and leaned her head on his shoulder. He lifted his feet, stretching his long legs across the aisle. Val threaded her fingers through his. “You’re an amazing man.”

He sighed and squeezed her hand gently. “I could be.”

She smiled in the dimly lit interior of the sleeping quarters. “You are. To me, you are. I don’t want to lose this.” She let that vulnerability slip out. It was a calculated risk, but she prayed he felt the same way.

“Then we won’t.” His words were a statement of fact. So like Smith. Black and white, no gray, no blurring of the lines he’d defined in his brilliant mind.

She popped her head up and looked at him. “How did you think of the signal?”

He glanced down at her. “A movie I once watched. I think it was a spy movie.”

She smiled and laughed. Smith’s low rumble of laughter filled the cabin, too. He patted her arm. “Are you ready?”

She nodded and stood up. At least that time, when they walked on the roofs of the railway cars, she’d have tennis shoes on. She extended her hand to him. “Let’s finish this.”

* * *

“What signal are we looking for?”Hoss asked as they watched the speck of a train. Harbinger shrugged, not taking his eyes off the horizon. “Knowing those two, it could be anything.” The Oscar Team leader grunted and shifted in his lean against the porch.

“Think there’s food on that train?” Squirrel, the smallest man on the team, asked from where he was sitting cross-legged on top of a junction box, looking through binoculars.

“Damn it, Squirrel. You just ate.” Ramp tossed a stick at his teammate. There was no need to be quiet. There was absolutely nothing and nobody near them. The one man who lived in the shack they were outside of, obviously the employee who pulled the switch for the train, was sleeping thanks to a syringe full of knock-out juice that Hoot, the team’s medic, administered.


Tags: Kris Michaels Romance