Gunner

by Heather Slade

  “Your half-sisters are here,” he told her once they were out of earshot of the rest of the group.

  She nodded. “I expected they might be.”

  “They’re upstairs along with their mother.”

  Raketa took a deep breath.

  “You’re under no obligation to meet them today. I’ll understand if it’s too much. So will they, along with everyone else.”

  She nodded and leaned forward so her head rested on his chest. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

  Gunner put his arm around her, loving that she was confiding in him.

  “Let’s get through this meeting and then see how you feel.”

  When they went back to the main room, Shiv was walking through the front door. Gunner made eye contact with him, and Shiver acknowledged him with a head nod.

  Gunner felt as though something was off between them and hoped they’d have a chance to talk privately today.

  He bristled when another man, one he didn’t recognize, came through the front door.

  “Who’s that?” he muttered to Razor.

  “Striker’s replacement at the company.”

  “How come we haven’t met him until now?”

  “Not sure.”

  “What have you got on him?”

  Razor rattled off the guy’s credentials like he was reading them from a list, the way he usually did.

  “Kellen McTiernan. Age thirty-three. More of a thinker than doer, but with an astronomical IQ. Huge into traffic and signal analysis.”

  “Isn’t that more NSA?”

  “Yeah, but that’s how smart he is. Evidently, they fought hard for him over at the fort, but the company already had him.”

  “Code name?”

  “Money.”

  “Striker called him in?”

  “I heard it was higher level.”

  That made Gunner feel better. Evidently, someone at CIA headquarters thought this deal was worth making, so they sent someone in who could work the numbers.

  “Let’s get started,” said Doc, motioning to the empty seats. Gunner and Raketa remained standing while McTiernan was introduced to the group.

  The man didn’t say much, but took everything in when Striker outlined “his” plan.

  “Doc and Fatale have the strongest relationship with United Russia, but I’m proposing Gunner and Shiv take the deal to them.”

  Huh? What the hell? Striker hadn’t said anything about him taking a deal to UR. “Why?” he asked.

  “Because the two of you want this deal more than anyone else.”

  That had to mean Kuznetsov was being included in the package. Gunner shook his head. Was a hundred billion worth the lives of two of UR’s most wanted?

  “I’m not a deal-maker,” said Gunner, making eye contact for the second time with Shiver.

  “Yeah, but you’ll scare the shit outta them,” Razor quipped.

  “I don’t like it,” he said, looking to Doc for support.

  “I’m with Striker on this,” he said, answering Gunner’s unasked plea.

  The expression he saw when he looked at Raketa told him she agreed with Doc and Striker. Later, when they could talk privately, he’d find out why.

  Shiver stood and paced behind one of the leather sofas. “It’ll require financial acumen that may be above either of our pay grades,” he said, smiling at Gunner.

  “Take McTiernan with you,” Doc suggested. “He’s got OFAC credentials.”

  Who was this guy? What Razor said he did sounded like NSA, he was here with the CIA, and now Doc was saying he’d worked with the Office of Foreign Assets Control? How had he not been on their radar? If there was anyone Gunner would propose as a K19 partner, it would be this guy.

  “I have something to add,” said the guy Gunner was studying.

  “Go ahead.”

  “There’s another piece to this puzzle that will likely mean the deal will be easier to make.”

  “And what’s that?” Gunner asked. Why didn’t people just say what they had to say instead of wasting time setting it up?

  “United Russia approached Azarpassillo first.”

  Was he dreaming? This was almost too good to be true. “Why the hell isn’t Petrov at the bottom of the Caspian Sea for real this time?”

  “I can answer that,” said Shiv. “They’re working on it. We aren’t the only ones hunting him.”

  That wasn’t good news. Gunner’s eyes met Raketa’s. “We need to find him first,” he said.

  If they got to Petrov first, UR wouldn’t have any reason to agree to even meet. They’d be able to negotiate the deal with Azarpassillo on their own.

  19

  When Raketa’s burner phone vibrated in her pocket, all eyes landed on her. She looked at Gunner imploringly.

  “This way,” he said, leading her through the sliding glass door of the kitchen and out to the patio.

  “Yes?” she answered.

  “Devochka moya, Devochka moya,” said her mother’s unmodulated voice.

  Raketa gasped. “Mama?” she asked with an accent more pronounced than he was used to hearing.

  He couldn’t decipher what Raketa’s mother said next, but distinctly heard, “Top—” and then the call abruptly disconnected.

  “Tell me what she said.”

  “She was so emotional, it was difficult to understand her,” Raketa told him with tears in her eyes. “But, do you think she was about to say Topor?”

  That was the first thing he thought, but she could’ve been saying anything.

  “He hates me,” Raketa whispered.

  “He works for Petrov.”

  “It seemed like more than that. I got the feeling he would’ve killed me given the opportunity.”

  “You’ll hear from him again, whether it’s Topor or Petrov himself, and now you know exactly what he wants.”

  “In the previous call, he said he’d kill her.”

  “If I remember what you told me correctly, he said something about if you ever wanted to see her again. Semantics maybe, but they could also mean two different things.”

  “You do that a lot.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Focus on the actual words said instead of assuming their meaning.”

  “It’s important, Raketa. Especially in our line of work.”

  “I’m not good at recognizing the difference.”

  Gunner pulled her closer to him. “There’s a lot I’m not good at. That’s why we’re a good team.”

  “We have to find Petrov.”

  “Yes, we do. Let’s go back inside and see if they’ve made any headway with a plan of action.”

  * * *

  “Where’s Shiv?” asked Gunner.

  “Upstairs with Eighty-eight,” Doc told him. “There’s a viable lead on Petrov’s whereabouts.”

  “Iran?”

  Doc shook his head. “Oregon.”

  Fuck. On the other hand, Ava and Aine were here in California. If Petrov really was there, he was unaware of their whereabouts.

  Raketa tugged at Gunner’s sleeve and handed him the burner phone.

  Manzanita, said the text that came through.

  “It’s like he can hear us,” Raketa whispered.

  “Doc?” said Gunner.

  “On it.”

  “What?”

  Gunner made a sweeping motion over her body. Rookie mistake, and one Razor had made with Ava. When it seemed like Petrov knew where she was within minutes of her arriving there, it finally dawned on his teammate that they’d never swept her suitcase for a tracking device. Sure enough, that’s where they found it. Gunner had swept her belongings, but not Raketa herself.

  He put his finger in front of his lips and motioned for her to follow him inside. If her premonition was correct, their entire mission was compromised because Petrov knew exactly what they were about to do.

  Something was bothering him about the phone calls. If Petrov was desperate to get his hands on her money as well a
s Ava’s and Aine’s, why wasn’t he baiting her in a more direct manner? Instead of disconnecting the call, why hadn’t he told her he’d kill her mother if she didn’t come to wherever he was and bring her half-sisters with her? If his intention was to kill the three of them, which Gunner figured was the most likely outcome, he would want them together.

  Was that what the text was about? Was he telling her he was in Manzanita so she’d just show up? That didn’t make sense.

  Gunner followed as Doc led Raketa into one of the downstairs bedrooms. “I’m sorry,” he said as he turned on the device that would let them know if she was carrying a bug on her clothing.

  He’d gotten just below her shoulders when the device went off. Something had been planted in her sweater. It probably tracked her location as well as picked up dialogue. It was almost too easy to find it.

  Wait. The sweater she was wearing had come from Gunner’s sister. The only way someone could’ve planted something in it would’ve been on his island, or, possibly in between the time she left and the time they met up in Chicago.

  His thoughts filled him with rage. It was so fucking obvious. He stormed out of the bedroom and slammed the door closed behind him.

  “Where’s Pimm?” he asked the group still sitting in the main room of the house.

  Each of them either shrugged or said they didn’t know. Gunner stormed upstairs, but Pimm wasn’t with Shiv and Eighty-eight either. As he was headed back downstairs something caught his eye through the window in the stairwell.

  Pimm was outside on this phone.

  Gunner stalked downstairs and out the door. He didn’t bother to grab his gun from the holster; he was going to rip the man apart with his bare hands.

  “What the—” Pimm eeked out before Gunner’s fist came in contact with his face. He didn’t stop with a single punch; he kept going, landing blow after blow on the man’s body.

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard shouting, but he didn’t stop.

  “Gunner!” Razor yelled, grabbing him from behind while Doc and Shiv picked Pimm up and moved him far enough away that Gunner couldn’t reach him if he escaped Razor’s grip.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Razor screamed at him while Gunner stared at the bloody pulp of the man with a burning hatred.

  “He bugged her.” Gunner looked up at Shiv. “Your man is a goddamn double agent, you fucking asshole.”

  “You’re wrong, Godet,” said Shiv, his voice too calm for Gunner.

  “Fucking liars. Both of you.”

  “He isn’t lying,” Doc told him. “It isn’t in her clothes.”

  “What?”

  It took Gunner a minute to process Doc’s words. What was he saying? When he realized what his teammate meant, a roar hurled from his chest, through his body, and out of his mouth. Someone had planted a tracking device inside Raketa’s body. It could’ve been anyone, but more than likely, United Russia had done it years ago.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” said Razor, his hands gripping Gunner’s shoulders while he tried to catch his breath. “If it was UR, they would’ve killed her the minute she left Moscow. They wouldn’t have wasted time sending Orlov.”

  “Who?”

  “Petrov.”

  That didn’t make sense either, not that Gunner could get his brain to process rational thinking. He looked at the man who he’d nearly beaten to death and fell to his knees.

  “Jesus, help me, I’m sorry,” he practically wailed. He looked between Doc and Shiv, and instead of recrimination in their eyes, he saw pity. He’d killed a lot of people in the course of his life, but he’d never lost control like he had today. He’d never felt that kind of rage. How many times had he hit him before Razor stopped him? Ten? More?

  “Is…he…”

  “There’s a bus on the way.”

  “I’ll go with him.”

  “No. You won’t,” Doc told him.

  “Whatever he needs…God, Pimm…I’m sorry.” He didn’t know whether the man could hear him, whether he was even conscious.

  “Raketa will need you to be with her.”

  “Right,” said Gunner, studying the wounds on his hands. “Shiv?”

  “Save it, Godet. I don’t want to hear a bloody thing you have to say.”

  Gunner heard the sound of the ambulance sirens getting closer, and watched as it pulled through the gates of Doc’s compound. Two paramedics lifted Pimm onto a stretcher and loaded him into the back of the vehicle. Shiv climbed in with him, and the doors closed.

  “What have I done?” Gunner said to Razor as they watched the ambulance pull back out of the gates of the compound and speed away.

  “Nothing I wouldn’t have done.”

  “Don’t say that. You wouldn’t have—”

  “Yeah, Gunner, I would’ve. Doc and Eighty-eight would’ve too.”

  He didn’t know why his friend was telling him this. He knew it wasn’t true. He’d never seen any of them lose control that way.

  “It doesn’t make it right,” said Doc, coming to kneel beside him, “but Razor’s right. If I thought someone had planted a device inside my wife, and that person was standing in front of me, I would’ve killed him. I wouldn’t have just hit him; that would take too long. I would’ve snapped his neck, and I wouldn’t have asked any questions.”

  Gunner hung his head, more ashamed than he’d ever been before in his life. “Where’s Raketa?” he asked, not sure he really wanted to know.

  “I’m here,” she said, walking toward him.

  Both Razor and Doc stood and went inside when she fell to the ground beside him.

  He leaned into her and cried. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t tell her how sorry he was, or how ashamed, or any of the horrible thoughts flying through his head faster than he could process them.

  She just held him, rocking his body with hers as he cried. “I could’ve killed him.”

  “That’s how much you love me,” she murmured.

  Gunner didn’t understand her reaction any more than he could Razor’s or Doc’s. The only person whose actions seemed logical was Shiv’s. He had no idea what would happen with the op now, except he wouldn’t be a part of it.

  “Come inside now,” said Doc to both him and Raketa. When Gunner stood, she wrapped her arms around him.

  They walked through the front door and followed Doc back into the bedroom they’d been in before.

  No one spoke as Raketa lay on the bed and Doc prepped the area under her arm. As a physician’s assistant, he had the experience to remove the device that had likely been planted very close to the surface of her skin. He motioned Gunner to the other side of the bed where he showed him the tiny scar that looked like she might’ve cut herself shaving. It was healed to the point where it would’ve been difficult to see unless someone was looking for it.

  Gunner held Raketa’s hand and closed his eyes as Doc made the slight cut and removed the microscopic device. He used tiny forceps to set it on a sterile pad. In the next few minutes, Eighty-eight would dismantle it under a microscope and look for clues that would lead them to whoever made it.

  The rage he’d felt earlier rolled inside of him, and he did his best to tamp it down. Even if Petrov, or whoever had done this to her, were standing in front of him, he couldn’t lose control the way he had again.

  “It’ll sting for a little while,” Doc said when Eighty-eight took the device and closed the door behind him.

  “Thank you,” Raketa said to him, acting as though the pain didn’t phase her.

  Doc left the room too, and they were alone.

  “I didn’t trust him either,” she murmured. “I was sure he was working for UR.”

  “Pimm?”

  Raketa nodded.

  What he’d accused Pimm of doing was planting a device in her clothing. That alone had sent him into a rage. But that hadn’t been true, which meant the person who had implanted it in her body was still out there. Soon they’d know the device had been removed. What woul
d happen then?

  As if on cue, the burner phone vibrated. Both he and Raketa looked at the screen when she pulled it out of her pocket. It wasn’t a text; it was another call.

  20

  Raketa answered without speaking. The voice was modulated, like it had been before.

  “You have killed your mother, your sisters, your boyfriend, and yourself. Stupid, stupid girl. I can no longer protect you.”

  Gunner’s look of shock mirrored her own when the call disconnected.

  “Protect me? It has to be Petrov.”

  “What makes you so certain?” Gunner asked.

  “The last time I saw him, he said something similar. ‘You’re here for your own protection.’”

  Gunner nodded, but he didn’t look convinced.

  “Talk to me,” she said, using the words he said to her so often.

  “Why would he say you’ve killed your mother, et cetera? Wouldn’t that warn you away?”

  “He also called me ‘girl.’”

  “Is that significant?”

  “I was in his office, telling him about Topor walking into the apartment where they kept me, whenever he felt like it. When I hesitated, he called me ‘girl.’”

  Gunner still didn’t look convinced, and the more she told him, the less she believed it herself.

  “What should we do?”

  “I’ll talk to Doc.”

  —:—

  “Got a minute?” Gunner asked Doc, who was sitting on one of the sofas seemingly staring at nothing. No one else was around. Gunner wondered where they’d all gone, but now wasn’t the time to ask.

  Doc nodded and motioned for Gunner to sit down.

  “I know I fucked everything up today, but there’s still an op that needs to be carried out. At least I hope there is.”

  “Nothing has changed Gunner.”

  “How’s Pimm?”

  “You’re not quite as deadly as you seem to think. He needed a handful of stitches, but you didn’t do any permanent damage.”

  “Maybe not to his body…” he mumbled.

  “There isn’t a man on our team who hasn’t been where you were this afternoon. The difference is to what degree. You and Pimm will figure this out. Maybe not right away, but eventually.”