Read Online Crazy Wild by Tara Janzen - Free Book Online Page A

heard it,” she said, “Castano and the rest of the NRF were your responsibility, and your guys couldn't get the job done. So you called us in, and your screwups got our guy killed. You sent Creed and J.T. into an ambush.”
    “Us, Ms. Bang? Are you running ops with SDF now? Is this something else I need to write up in my report?” Royce asked.
    “Probably not,” another voice interjected, cutting the agent off.
    Skeeter slanted her gaze toward the door.
Finally.
    She no sooner laid eyes on the man walking into the office than a soft flush of awareness washed into her cheeks—
damn it
.
    That was one thing she
had
to get under control. This ridiculous crush she'd allowed herself to get on Dylan Hart had absolutely no future in it. Worse, she had a terrible suspicion that he knew, and that her ridiculous crush was the reason he'd been pretty much avoiding the SDF headquarters on Steele Street ever since last summer. He'd been coming in, doing his work, and leaving—usually in the dead of night. She hadn't seen him in weeks.
    He looked tired—tired and beautiful, and at least as dangerous as Creed.
    Royce knew it, too. She could tell by the way he stepped away from her. Dylan and the CIA went way back, and none of their history was good.
    “Hart,” Royce said, acknowledging Dylan's arrival.
    “Royce.” The barest hint of a smile curved Dylan's lips as he met the agent's gaze and walked on by. He stopped next to her, and Skeeter felt her blush deepen.
    Damn it.
    “What's this?” he asked, pulling the photographs out of her hand.
    “Castano and Garcia,” she said.
    He went through the pictures, slipping each one to the bottom of the stack after he'd seen it. He had silky dark hair and refined features, elegantly carved, but the underlying lines of his face were too hard for him to ever qualify as pretty. Dylan Hart, like all the SDF guys, had been one of the city's most notorious juvenile delinquents before he'd grown up and come into his own, and those years had left their mark inside and out.
    “Where'd you get these?” he asked Royce, effortlessly achieving a perfectly bland tone of voice. He wasn't giving anything away, but Skeeter could tell he was furious. There was a stillness about Dylan when he was angry, and he was suddenly very still.
    “We had a paid asset in Puerto Blanco. As for finding Castano and Garcia, your boys didn't do much to cover their tracks. Everyone north to the Colombian border knows what happened in the Cordillera mountains.”
    Dylan nodded once, glanced at the top photo again, then lifted his gaze to meet Royce's. “I think that was the point.”
    “They've gone rogue on you, Hart,” Royce said. “Chronopolous and Rivera both. You know it, and I know it. Hell, you can't even get Chronopolous to come home.”
    “He's on temporary assignment with the DEA in Colombia, which I'm sure you know more about than I do,” Dylan said.
    “Then what in the hell is he doing going in and out of Peru? He's been in Cuzco four times in the last three months.”
    One of Dylan's eyebrows arched upward. “He won't like you following him.”
    “My boys don't care what he likes or doesn't like. They want him out of their territory. All he has to do is show up in a town and everybody gets spooked. What is it you all call him? Chaos? Kid Chaos? Well, you've got it right, and I want him out of there. And I want Creed Rivera now. I want to know what he's working on.”
    “And I'd like you to think twice before you ever show anything like these photographs to my personal secretary again.” Dylan lifted the pictures, his tone absolutely even, his message more than clear. To Skeeter's surprise, Tony Royce actually clenched his jaw.
    “You're in way over your head, Hart—especially if you've got Dominika Starkova. The case is ours. We've been on it for months, and I don't care if it was General Grant or the secretary of defense himself who sicced you on her tail. I want SDF to back off. I've got