Man Hunt

by Misty Evans

  Right. She emerged from behind the palm and ran a hand over her hair, smoothing down any stray strands. Ryker reached for the door, but it flew open before he grabbed the handle, a tall man in a casual sport jacket and khakis emerging from the restaurant.

  For half a second, Mia's heart stuttered, the man's profile familiar and haunting as he hurried by not seeing them. She latched onto Ryker and pulled them both behind the palm once more. “Shit,” she whispered, watching the man approach the concierge desk. Two men in dark suits with comm units in their ears appeared from a nearby alcove and joined him.

  Bodyguards. Ones who hadn’t been invited in.

  They were too far away to hear what the man was discussing with the concierge but her ears buzzed too much to hear him anyway. Her knees shook and she had to put her back against the wall for support.

  Ryker’s brows drew together in a frown, his big body swinging around instinctively to shield her. “What is it? You know that guy?”

  “Don’t you?” she hissed.

  He threw a look over his shoulder. “Is that…?”

  Her mouth was dry and she swallowed the lump in her throat. Why was he here?

  Duh. She knew exactly why. He had to be meeting with Kaiser, making some kind of deal. “That's US Senator Warren Hinch.”

  “You know him, like, personally?”

  She knew him better than she wanted to, that was for sure. “You want to know the reason I want back in the CIA?” Over Ryker’s shoulder, she peered at the senator walking away. “It's because of him.”

  “I don't understand.”

  She grabbed his hand, checked to make sure the coast was clear, and hauled him to the door. They might have only this one chance to make this work, and they needed to get on with it. “Never mind. The clock is ticking. Let's do this.”

  She yanked open the door and pulled Ryker after her.

  Chapter Five

  Eyes on a bigger prize

  * * *

  This was the moment they’d been waiting for. As he and Mia stepped through the doors, Ryker’s gaze scanned the area. They already knew the layout and all the potential exits—Parker had briefed them on the plane. Like any good spy, he'd memorized every detail. Now he merged the real-life layout with the one in his brain.

  Beside him, Mia was doing the same, even as she laughed loudly and playfully snuggled up to him. Two loving newlyweds, that's all they were.

  What was all that about outside? What had Senator Warren done to her?

  “Two for dinner?” The hostess was young and model-perfect, dressed in a sexy peacock blue number. She pointedly ignored Mia, her eyes meeting Ryker’s as she gave him a flirty grin.

  He reached into his coat jacket and pulled out the invitation from Karl. “We’re here to meet Mr. Kaiser.”

  The flirty grin turned guarded. “Of course.” She put the menus away and motioned for them to follow.

  Ryker put his arm around Mia’s waist, guiding her around the half dozen diners scattered throughout the room. A pregnant bus girl cleaned off a table on the left, shifting out of their way while a waitress took a couple’s order across the room. Mia was a stunning knockout in the dress, drawing everyone’s attention.

  There were so many ways this could all go south in the next few minutes. His stomach turned sour even as he strutted toward the private dining room.

  His mind centered on Jaeger, his last memory of the boy hugging him before he left for the hotel. The feel of the boy’s arms around his neck focused his brain. He had to do this right, and take Kaiser out of the equation once and for all.

  “That's not too ostentatious, is it?” Mia murmured beside him.

  They were headed toward a large statue of Zeus sitting on a throne. The throne was atop a marble “mountain” that Ryker could only assume represented Olympus.

  Ryker kept his voice low so only she could hear. “You gotta understand this guy’s ego—in his warped mind he believes he is Zeus, king of the gods. I suppose in this place, he is.”

  The hostess led them behind the large statue and into a private, intimate dining room. There was more wood here, less white marble. A bar anchored one end, the mirrors on the wall behind the shelves of alcohol reflecting a single long table and chairs with an exquisite view of the Mediterranean coastline.

  The room was empty except for a single man who stood with his back to them, looking out over the dark waters, a tumbler of bronze liquid in hand.

  The hostess cleared her throat. “Your dinner guests are here, monsieur.”

  Kaiser was dressed in an expensive suit that swooshed slightly as he turned. His hair was the same wheat color as his pale skin. A thick, gold chain dangled from the wrist of the hand holding the liquor.

  For a second, his calculating eyes stared defiantly at Ryker. “It is true, Gaspard Manafort. You’re alive.”

  After all these months, Ryker feared it would be difficult to slip back into his French identity. His training, however, was still buried deep. It rose to the surface as he gave a cocky grin and lifted his hands in supplication. “Alive? Bien sur. Of course, I am, my old friend.”

  “The rumors of your death are greatly exaggerated then?” Kaiser quipped, using the famous Mark Twain quote as he strolled toward them. His gaze shifted to Mia. “I hear you're married now, as well. Who is this lucky lady?”

  “My beautiful bride,”—Ryker motioned at Mia, and once more put his arm around her waist— “Mrs. JoAn Rimer-Manafort.”

  Karl offered a hand. Mia shook it. “I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Kaiser.”

  Kaiser, still holding her hand, slid his attention to Ryker and then back to Mia. He liked what he saw, and gave her a charming smile. “All bad, I’m sure.”

  Four words thick with sleazy pride and ego in every one. She laid her other hand over his. “Nonsense. Gaspard tells me you’re an extraordinary businessman. What luck that you are here at the same time we are on the last leg of our extended honeymoon. I was excited to get the invitation to meet you. I'm in the arms business myself.”

  Another glance at Ryker. “Is that so?”

  “You might've heard of her company,” Ryker said. “She’s the founder of Ghost Gun.”

  “Ghost Gun?” A new light entered his eyes, and he pulled Mia’s hand into the crook of his elbow, drawing her from Ryker and walking her toward the table. “Untraceable 3-D weapons, oui?”

  How long had Beatrice been building that fictional company? God, she was good.

  Mia smiled seductively, throwing a quick glance and a wink over her shoulder at Ryker. He gritted his teeth and followed, all of his instincts aching to grab her from Kaiser's grasp.

  For the next hour as they ate and drank, Kaiser sat mesmerized as Mia regaled him with information about her specialty arms business, and in particular, the 3-D weapons.

  Ryker couldn’t believe Kaiser hadn’t drilled him further about his supposed death, but he knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  Over dessert, Kaiser asked, “You have blueprints for this latest weapon?”

  Mia sipped at her coffee and nodded. “The problem is funding. For the past two years, I’ve been banned from crowd funding sites as well as social media, and with certain members of the Department of Defense trying to shut me down, all my profits have been going to attorney fees. The DOD has kept their restrictions against me on the down low, and without social media to spread the word, I can't bring their harassment to light. Even a few articles run by the press have been sequestered.”

  Good thing Beatrice had friends at the Department of Defense willing to back up Mia's story should Kaiser look into it.

  “I'm no stranger to roadblocks.” Kaiser stretched, his gaze roaming over her face, her shoulders, down to her cleavage, making Ryker want to punch him. “And I do have friends in the US State Department. I could reach out to them, or maybe a few others in America, and see about smoothing the road for you.”

  “You mean like Senator Hinch?” Mia pointed toward
the front of the restaurant. “That was him I saw leaving earlier, wasn't it?”

  Kaiser shrugged one shoulder. “An acquaintance. Doesn't have much pull with the DOD, I'm afraid. My other friends do.”

  Mia's eyes grew wide. “You would do that for me? Speak to someone about looking the other way in regards to my business?”

  Kaiser focused on Ryker. “Call it a wedding gift. At one time, your husband was one of my trusted allies. I would like to believe he still is.”

  Hardly. But he needed Kaiser to trust him now. Time to grovel a bit. “I was very sorry to hear about Petra and your son.”

  Kaiser sat back, loosening his tie. “She was fond of you.”

  “I heard it was a gas leak.”

  Silence, heavy with irritation. “That's what the police called it.”

  “What a tragedy,” Mia said. “I'm so sorry.”

  What the police called it. Ryker leaned in. “It must've been horrible.”

  “Horrible?” He let go of a derisive grunt. “There was no gas leak.”

  Play dumb. “I don’t understand.”

  Kaiser’s face was devoid of emotion. “I have a lot of enemies, as you well know, Gaspard. My wife’s death was no accident.”

  The insinuation was there, lightly veiled. “You think an enemy wanted Petra dead?”

  “Or me.”

  “They tried to kill you that night and got her and your son instead?”

  Kaiser leaned forward, studying Ryker’s face. “Or perhaps one of them created a diversion to steal my son.”

  “Steal your son?” Ryker’s skin tightened.

  “He’s alive.” A hand went to his chest. “I feel it.”

  Mia’s gaze ping-ponged between their faces. “The boy survived the fire?”

  Kaiser shrugged, going for sad, but it was too controlled to pull off. “His body wasn’t found.”

  More heavy silence. Ryker let it hang for a long moment as if considering this new information. “Was there a ransom request?”

  The man toyed with his wine glass. “None.”

  “No blackmail attempt?”

  “No.”

  “Why would someone want to kidnap him?”

  Kaiser shrugged.

  Ryker let a few heartbeats go by. “Then most likely it was a hit. But whoever did it could've been after any of us attending your party. As I recall, there were several important people there, oui?”

  Kaiser stared at him for a long moment, then reached into his breast pocket and pulled out something wrapped in a cloth, tossing it onto the table. He cocked his chin at Ryker’s blank look. “Go ahead. Look inside.”

  Ryker pushed back a flap, saw the gleam of a gold chain, a cross. His stomach cramped. Was this a piece of what had been his Gaspard Manafort image?

  “What is it?” Mia asked, unwrapping the cloth completely. “A necklace?” Her gaze rose to Ryker’s, a question behind the question. Or maybe, she was thinking holy shit, like he was. “Why that looks identical to yours, darling.”

  She played it perfectly, giving him the opportunity to lift the gold necklace he wore out from under his shirt collar. Good thing Beatrice had replicated his UC identity down to the tiniest detail.

  He’d left the original with Petra the day before the fire to give to her rescuers as a confirmation from him. The rescuers who never showed.

  “It was found in the ashes near Petra’s body,” Karl stated, his voice cold. “I assumed it was yours, Gaspard.”

  “Mine?” He gave him a flabbergasted look. “That's why you thought I was dead? Because of the necklace?”

  Kaisers eyes accused him. “You didn't come early for the party that evening? Perhaps to visit my wife while I was away?”

  Just like he'd suspected, Kaiser thought Petra was having affairs on the side. Ryker gave him a confused shake of his head. “Non! I wasn’t at your house. I’d planned to attend the party, but met JoAn in town, and well… We hit it off.” He gave Kaiser a wink. “She sort of swept me off my feet.”

  Mia grinned at him and patted his hand. “I was totally enamored from the second I saw him, and we’ve been on a whirlwind romance ever since. Partners in love and business.” She tapped the screen of her watch, bringing up a small picture of their wedding—another Beatrice touch. Somehow he was standing there in a tux, grinning at the camera with his arm around Mia. The things people could do with Photoshop these days. “We’ve been all over the world,” she continued to gush as she showed the photo to Kaiser. “Monte Carlo is our last stop before we head to America. I'm trying to convince Gaspard to work for me.”

  “As you can see,”—Ryker flashed the cross pendant at Kaiser—“I have my necklace, and I am very much alive.”

  “So you are.”

  “And thank goodness for that,” Mia gripped his hand tighter. “I only wish we could be a real family. You know, with kids and everything.”

  What was this? Ryker nodded as if he understood what she was saying, but kept his mouth shut. She leaned slightly toward Kaiser, looking like she was ready to share a secret. “Because of a childhood illness, I can't have children. It's the one thing money can't buy. Again, I'm so sorry for your loss. I've always dreamed of having a baby. A whole family. I can't imagine having one and then…”

  She let the rest of the sentence dangle, turning her face away and making out like she was wiping tears from the corner of her eyes.

  Okay, then. Looked like they were going down that road. Shit.

  It wasn't part of the script, but it was a damn good angle, if they could pull it off. Ryker glanced at Kaiser and saw the man’s cold eyes soften slightly.

  Yep, a crying woman could do that to anybody, especially one as beautiful and seemingly caring as Mia.

  Ryker wasn't sure it fit with her undercover identity as a weapons distributor, but 99% of the criminals and terrorists he’d met over the years craved family and connections just like normal people.

  He put his arm around her shoulder and gave it a squeeze, commiserating and trying to look as disheartened as she did.

  “Jaeger was a good boy.” Karl cleared his throat and refilled all their wine glasses. “You can adopt, no?”

  Mia straightened and looked down at her lap, fiddling with her napkin. “Unfortunately, with my current business situation, I'm not exactly considered prime mommy material. I looked into it, even before I met Gaspard.” She gave a heavy sigh.

  Well played. Once again, she held back any overt obviousness, not mentioning black market adoptions or anything that might raise Kaiser's suspicions.

  “We’ll figure something out,” Ryker said, playing along. “I promise.”

  Kaiser stared at Mia, a mix of emotions on his face. Did he buy the act? Was he considering mentioning his new enterprise?

  Those questions went unanswered as the man motioned at the shadows behind the bar and a woman appeared with a tablet in hand.

  “Yes, sir,” she said, stepping up next to him. She looked to be in her mid-thirties and wore a conservative suit. Her hair was short, her makeup minimal.

  Assistant?

  “My friends are on an extended honeymoon,” Kaiser said, “and we’re their last stop before they go home. Move them to the Venus suite right away, on the house.”

  “Yes, sir.” The assistant’s fingers moved swiftly over the touchscreen, apparently making the arrangements. “I’ll have their things taken there immediately.”

  A new suite could mean increased security. “That’s really not necess—”

  Mia jabbed him in the ribs, shutting him up. “That is very generous, Karl. Thank you.”

  The assistant raised her gaze to Mia. “Will you be attending the Midsummer Night's Gala on Sunday, then?”

  Oh lord, no.

  Before he could decline the invitation, Mia's face lit up like a kid at Christmas. “A gala? Like a ball? Are you kidding? Of course, we'll be there.” She smiled at Ryker, her eyes dancing. “That’ll be the perfect ending to our honeymoon!”

&
nbsp; Her eyes were beautiful and he liked seeing the way they sparkled at the idea of the party. He sensed she wasn't pretending to be excited—she really was.

  So although it sounded like pure hell to him, he found himself nodding and smiling back. “Whatever you want, mon coeur.”

  And somewhere deep inside him, he meant it.

  “I love when you speak French.” Mia gave a quiet squeal, squeezing his arm then throwing her own around his neck. “I'll feel exactly like Cinderella. You’re my Prince Charming!”

  If anyone else had said such a thing to him, he would've laughed at the cheesiness, but somehow Mia managed to pull it off. She was a conundrum, even in her undercover identity. One minute she was all business, the next she was acting like a young girl, excited over the extravagance.

  “What should I wear?” she asked the woman standing next to Kaiser. “Midsummer’s Night—is that some kind of Shakespearean thing?”

  The woman made a note on her tablet, and gave Mia a tight smile. “I'll make sure the invite, and some shopping guidance, is delivered to your room.”

  Mia grinned from ear to ear. “That would be much appreciated. Thank you.”

  Kaiser raised his wine glass. “Let us drink to new beginnings and renewed friendships.”

  Mia raised her glass, her face glowing with confidence. “To new beginnings and partnerships as well.”

  Kaiser’s return smile was greasy and made all Ryker’s protective instincts kick in. He put an arm around Mia’s shoulders, reluctantly joining in the salute.

  * * *

  Clandestine communications

  * * *

  The Venus suite was twice as big as their previous room and strayed slightly from the modern, white and gold theme prevalent everywhere else. While there was no separation between the main living area and the bedroom, the predominant colors here were red and pink, a reproduction of the classic Birth of Venus by Botticelli painted on the wall behind the bed.

  As Ryker checked their bags to make sure nothing was missing, Mia tugged her ear—the signal someone could be listening—and made all the right noises, cooing about the amenities and view.