—:—
Striker came inside without knocking and threw his bag on the floor. “I’m here. Let’s get to work.”
Gunner thought long and hard about what the consequences would be if he took out his gun and shot Striker.
“You don’t call the shots,” he said instead of killing him.
“For Christ’s sake, Paps. Stop with the power trip and tell me why I’m here.”
Before he knew he was coming, Gunner had his hand around Striker’s throat, and his body slammed up against the wall.
“Gunner?” he heard Raketa say from behind him.
“Never. Call. Me. That,” he seethed under his breath. “Do you understand me?”
Striker didn’t respond, but Gunner released him anyway.
Raketa stepped forward and put her hand on Gunner’s arm. Surprisingly, his first instinct wasn’t to pull away from her.
She slid her fingers down his arm until her hand was in his, and led him over to the sofa.
“Can I get you anything?” she asked Striker, who was rubbing his neck.
“A good stiff drink would be nice.”
—:—
Raketa walked over to the refrigerator and smiled when she saw a bottle of vodka in the freezer. She got three glasses out of the cupboard and brought them to the table near the sofa where Gunner was seated.
She poured all three. “To freedom,” she said, meeting both Gunner and Striker’s eyes before throwing the shot back. Both men drank. Raketa sat down next to Gunner, and Striker sat in a chair close enough to the table that he could still reach the bottle of vodka.
“You’re here to help us figure out how to get UR to let me go without killing me.”
Striker poured another glass of vodka, hesitating a moment before pouring another for her and Gunner.
Gunner looked at Striker like he wanted to kill him.
Raketa leaned back and sat close enough to Gunner that their bodies touched.
“My understanding is that Doc has been working his contacts on your behalf.”
“Do you think you’d be here if he’d been successful, you asshole?”
Raketa almost laughed. “As Gunner said, he hasn’t gotten anywhere.”
—:—
He sat there, saying nothing, all the while he had the answer that would save Raketa’s life and get Striker the hell out of there because he’d no longer be needed. He felt the bile from the shot rise in his throat and thought for a minute he’d be sick.
He hadn’t had time to look into who Kuznetsov was, but did it matter? Shiv had made it clear that using her as a bargaining chip was out of the question.
If the situations were reversed, would Shiver allow this woman to face assassination when he knew Raketa could be offered in trade? It was a question he couldn’t answer, because he didn’t want to.
There were lines that could never be crossed, and at the top was betraying your teammate. While they’d worked for different organizations the entire time Gunner had known Shiv, they were still brothers in arms.
Gunner studied the woman sitting next to him. Still, every time he saw her, she took his breath away. Now that he knew how it felt to hold her in his arms, how could he not do everything in his power to save her life?
He moved his arm so it wrapped her shoulders, and breathed in the scent of her.
“Is he drunk?” he heard Striker say, giving him one more reason to kill him.
“It’s been a very, very long day,” Raketa answered. “We should get some rest. There’s nothing that can be done tonight.”
Striker stood. “Where’s my bunk?”
Gunner watched as Raketa led him down the hallway, wondering if she’d just go to bed too. He almost wished she would.
He didn’t know if he could talk to her. No matter what he said, the words would drip with the agony he was feeling, knowing he held the answer she sought, but was powerless to give it to her.
“Let’s call it a night,” she said, walking back to the sofa and holding her hand out to him.
“Go ahead, I’ll stay out here for a bit.” He brought her hand to his lips. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“No, Gunner. There are two beds in this house, and I refuse to sleep with Striker.”
“Damn right, you won’t,” he said, pouring another shot in his glass and throwing it back.
“If you keep going at that rate, you’ll be drunk, and I know you’ll regret it. If not in the morning, one day you will.”
Gunner looked into the eyes of the woman who held his heart. He couldn’t sleep next to her, let alone make love to her sweet body, knowing what he did. He could hardly stand to look at her with the guilt he felt.
“I’m going for a walk,” he said, pulling away from her. He went outside and slammed the door behind him.
Never before had he faced a situation like this one. There were good guys and bad guys. Choosing right over wrong was easy. The only time that had come close was when he had to choose Doc’s life over Lena’s, and even then, the decision had been made for him. In that instance, Lena was evil.
Who was evil in this case? Was Raketa any more or less so than Kuznetsov? He had no idea why UR would want the other woman over her, but either way, there was no way to define either of them as purely good or evil.
When she’d asked him what he’d do if he was forced to choose between her and his mother, he didn’t give it any thought. There would never be a time he’d have to.
But now, he was forced to choose between her and his loyalty to Shiver. It wasn’t much different than her hypothetical.
Gunner sat on a bench by the water and leaned forward with his arms on his knees. Sitting that way did nothing to assuage the pain in his gut.
Unless they could come up with someone else UR wanted more than Kuznetsov, Raketa would be running from them for the rest of her life, and Gunner wasn’t sure he could promise that he’d be able to keep her safe.
He heard the door open and close behind him, knowing Raketa was coming to him and wishing it were Striker instead, no matter how much he hated him.
She walked around him, pushed his shoulders back, and sat on his lap.
“Talk to me, Gunner Man. Let me help you.”
He almost smiled at her using his words back at him, but the pain he felt was too great.
“I can’t,” he said, wishing he could take the words back as soon as he’d said them.
—:—
Raketa brought her lips to his and forced her tongue into Gunner’s mouth. She circled her arms around his neck and held tight. The only time she’d seen him in this much pain was when he’d been forced to kill Lena.
She’d refused to take no for an answer that night, and she wouldn’t tonight either. She loved him too much to let him deal with his suffering alone, in the same way he wouldn’t have been able to let her.
When she pulled back and looked into his eyes, the pain she saw there broke her heart.
“When I got the first phone call, the person used my name, Zaryana. They went on to tell me that if I wanted to see my mother again, I could tell no one about the call or about the instructions I would receive. If I did, she’d die.” She took a deep breath. “I didn’t get another call until earlier, and you heard the same words I did. Wait, that isn’t true. There was another call, but I didn’t answer. It was right before I left the room, when Orlov shot at me.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because the only way I know to get you to trust me enough to tell me what’s going on, is to trust you first.”
“Jesus,” she heard him say as he buried his head in her shoulder. She felt his body shake as the dampness of his tears seeped into her sweater.
His arms around her waist tightened as he clung to her and cried. “I don’t know what to do,” she heard him whisper.
“Tell me, Gunner. What is causing you such pain?”
“I have a name.”
Raketa took another deep breath. “
Who?”
This was the ultimate test. Would he tell her? If he didn’t, she would walk away from him and never look back.
“Kuznetsov.”
18
Yes. Now she understood. United Russia had wanted Orina “Losha” Kuznetsov’s head since before Raketa had decided to defect. It was the assignment she’d declined that started the wheels in motion bringing her to where they were now.
No one declined an assignment from United Russia. Not ever.
She’d waited for a sign, something to happen that she’d know, without question, that it was time to make her move. That was when she contacted Gunner and made the deal with him.
She’d been tracking Petrov from the minute she’d heard he resurfaced after twenty years. She knew the exact moment the Armenians had taken Aine and two of her friends hostage, and again, the moment they took Ava. By then, she and Gunner were already working on finding Aine.
But it had all started with Kuznetsov.
“That is not an option.”
“Why not?” he asked, looking deep into her eyes. “Because of MI6? Because of Shiver?”
Raketa shook her head. “No. This decision is mine alone, not because of anything or anyone else. Because I cannot use Losha to secure my freedom.”
“Why not?”
She’d asked for his honesty, would’ve walked away if he hadn’t given it. Now she had to do the same.
“She saved my life. Not just that, she kept me alive, kept me going. She made me Raketa and helped me leave Zaryana behind.”
“I see.”
“My final assignment from UR, the one I walked away from, was her assassination.”
“That’s why you wanted to defect.”
“No,” she said, putting her hands on the sides of his face. “You are the reason I wanted to defect.”
Gunner’s eyes bored into hers.
“I knew from the first time I saw you that one day I would be with you.”
Gunner nodded. “I felt it too.”
“Come inside with me,” she said, standing and taking his hand. “Let’s pretend we’re back on your island where nothing can touch us. Where we can be free to love each other without fear for our lives.”
—:—
He couldn’t have predicted it would be different, but it was. Holding Raketa in his arms after sharing so much of themselves, trusting each other with the things that were ripping away at their souls, had freed them to simply experience love.
Their touch was tender and slow. Where passion drove them before, this time, love took the wheel. Gunner didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or how they would get Raketa out from under United Russia’s threat, or how they would find Petrov and emancipate her mother, but together, they would.
* * *
“It’s about damn time you surfaced,” Striker said when Gunner walked in the kitchen. He responded by flipping him off.
“Where’s Raketa?”
“Still in bed.”
“You let her stay there alone?”
Gunner spun around from the coffeemaker. “You don’t get to think about her in bed. In fact, don’t say another word about her. Not even her name.”
“That’ll make it tough for me to give you the solution to her problem.”
“Don’t dick with me.”
“Since you are, essentially, my boss, I’ll go ahead and tell you how the woman whose name I am forbidden to mention can get United Russia to let her go.”
“If you’re going to suggest Kuznetsov as a bargaining chip, forget it. She won’t go for it and neither will I.”
“Not to mention that Whittaker would skin me alive.”
Gunner would think about why everyone but him seemed to know about Shiv and this woman later.
“Get to the point.”
“I’d rather wait for…you know who. She was the one who made me think of it in the first place.”
Did this man not realize how much closer he came to death with every word he spoke?
Gunner growled in his direction and went back down the hallway to rouse Raketa.
“Good morning,” she said, stretching her arms over her head, causing her nipples to pop out from under the sheet. Gunner couldn’t help himself from taking a taste.
She ran her fingers through his hair. “I am in a surprisingly good mood today, considering I have a five million dollar bounty on my head and, in addition to that, my own father wants to kill me.”
“About that. The asshole in the kitchen says he has a solution. Something he said you made him think of in the first place.”
“I’m intrigued.”
“By the way, I made sure he wasn’t going to suggest Kuznetsov.”
The smile left Raketa’s face, but she didn’t look sad. “I love you so much, Gunner.”
He covered her mouth with his, demanding his tongue’s entry, and kissed her hard. “So much” didn’t scratch the surface of the depth of his feelings for her.
He broke away from their kiss and pulled her from the bed. “Put this on,” he said, tossing her a robe.
“Does every house on every island in America come with one of these?” she asked as she tightened the robe’s belt around her waist.
—:—
“Azarpassillo,” Striker said when she and Gunner walked into the kitchen.
“What about it?” Gunner asked.
“There’s your answer.”
Raketa stepped between the two men. Why did Striker insist on pushing Gunner’s buttons?
“You don’t think United Russia wants that money flowing their way instead of Petrov’s? We’re talking billions of dollars. Why do you think Petrov is so anxious to get his hands on your money?”
“He has to prove to the Iranians he has enough capital to get the deal done.”
“Exactly. Typical Ponzi scheme.”
Gunner poured her a cup of coffee and handed it to her. “So, we do what exactly?”
“Put the deal together. It’s gotta be worth a hundred billion at least. What are they offering for this one’s head? Five mil? It’s easy math. A hundred bil to let five mil go.”
Raketa almost laughed at the expression on Gunner’s face. She had to admit, Striker was one of the most irritating men she’d ever met. However, right now, she could kiss him.
“There’d be a second part to this deal.”
“What’s that, Striker?” she asked.
“Petrov.”
“What about him?” asked Gunner.
“That UR hands over his head on a stick.”
“Who works the deal?”
“Me.”
“Get your shit together and then arrange to get us a ride,” Gunner said to him.
“Where are you going?” Striker asked.
“We’re goin’ to Montecito to meet with the rest of the team.”
“That means you think it’ll work.”
Gunner rested the palms of his hands on the table in front of Striker. “Don’t you?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then shut up and get moving.”
Raketa stood behind Gunner and put her arms around his waist as they watched Striker leave the room.
“He wants your approval so badly.”
“Tell you what, Rocket Girl, he puts this deal together, and I may end up likin’ him.”
“There’s one more thing.”
“Say it.”
“My mother. I want her ensured safety written into this deal. Not just her. Ava and Aine too. We walk away without a scratch and with the promise that we’ll never hear from UR again.”
“That seems like a reasonable request.”
“Does it?”
“I’d say a hundred billion dollars might be worth some concessions.”
“Do you think Striker can make this happen?”
Gunner lowered his voice. “Not alone. That’s why we’re powwowing.”
—:—
Gunner could feel Raketa’s body trembling next to his, but
doubted she was nervous about facing the full force of the K19 team. If he was being honest, he was jittery from the time they left Pimm’s family’s house until they drove through the gates of Doc’s compound. Even then, he knew he’d feel a lot better once they were inside and got this deal rolling.
He’d studied Striker on their way here, looking for signs of self-doubt, but the bastard was as cocky and annoying as ever. The CIA was probably glad to see him go when he resigned to join K19.
“Come in,” said Merrigan, holding baby Laird in her arms. Gunner hoped he didn’t start wailing during the meeting, there was something about babies crying that worked his last nerve worse than Striker did.
Raketa fawned over the baby while Gunner surveyed the room. Everyone was here.
Mantis and Pimm had flown them in. Mantis took a seat on the other side of the room rather than the empty one next to Alegria. Onyx was on his co-pilot’s right while Dutch and Monk were head-to-head over something, and Eighty-eight was walking out of the kitchen with a cup of coffee. Neither Shiv nor anyone else from MI6 other than Pimm was here, which puzzled him. Shouldn’t they be privy to this deal?
Gunner approached Razor who was looking at his phone.
“Good to see you too,” he said when Razor looked up but his expression didn’t change.
“Sorry, man. You probably aren’t gonna feel that way when you find out Ava and Aine are here with me.”
Given everyone but the contractors K19 kept on the payroll was here, it didn’t come as a surprise that Razor brought his wife and sister-in-law with him. He hoped that Raketa realized the same thing.
“What about their mother?”
“Here too. So is Quinn.”
Gunner nodded, his eyes meeting Raketa’s from across the room. “Where are they?”
“Upstairs.”
“Roger that,” he said, walking to where Raketa stood. “Shall we take a seat?” he asked.
“I’d rather stand.”
“Come with me for a minute.” He took her hand and led her out of the main room and into the kitchen.
Gunner Page 15
