Her Assassin For Hire (Stealth Series Book 3)

by Danica Winters

  “Damn, I had no idea our government had come this far.” He gave a little whistle.

  She looked up from the screen and nodded. “Doesn’t your new team have access to any kind of technology, Jiminy Cricket?”

  She said new team like it was the name of his new girlfriend.

  “Why, Ms. Zoey Martin, are you jealous?” he asked with a smirk.

  “Why would I be jealous of some two-bit operation that can’t even hack their way into the most basic of the government’s databases?”

  If she thought that the NSA’s drone encryption keys were basic, he couldn’t help but wonder what the more complicated ones were hiding.

  He resisted the urge to ask if she could rewind it, fearing that he would sound like he was a thousand years old and from a different planet.

  “Here we go,” she said, moving closer to him so they could watch the screen side by side. “This was from early this morning.”

  She clicked Play. There was the normal movement of people up and down the street in front of the apartment building where the GPS device was located—nothing stood out. She skipped ahead two minutes. A woman wearing a light gray peacoat stepped out of the front doors of the building. The woman was alone. Even though she was wearing large welding mask–sized sunglasses, it was easy to recognize her as the woman from the bank’s video.

  The woman stopped and reached for something in her tiny purse and then started walking toward where he and Zoey now stood. He looked up from the phone, half expecting the woman in the coat to be standing directly in front of him. Instead, there was the buzz of car horns in the distance and the shuffle of feet on the cobblestone as people walked past.

  The woman pranced like a well-trained and expensive dog.

  “Do you see the handbag she’s carrying?” Zoey asked, zooming in on the brown bag. It had a silver chain as the strap and it looked strange on the tiny briefcase-looking purse.

  “What about it? I mean, besides being stupid-looking.” He never understood what women saw in purses. As far as he was concerned, a purse was a purse was a purse. It was just a place to put their crap until they needed their crap. Really, a paper sack would do in a pinch.

  “First, it isn’t stupid-looking.” She gave him a quick look up and down. “You are hardly one to judge, Mr. Cargo Shorts and a button-up.”

  “It’s practical,” he argued, but was stopped by the wave of her hand.

  “More importantly,” she continued, “the bag she is carrying is Jean Vitton. It’s this year’s Petite Malle mini bag.”

  “That doesn’t change the fact that it looks like something from the bargain bin at the dollar store.”

  She huffed, clearly annoyed with his commentary on fashion. “Regardless of what you feel about this purse, it’s amazing.”

  He cocked his head and gave her a disapproving look. “Really? You like the purse? It looks like a dude’s shrunken briefcase. And I know for a fact that you are more comfortable carrying around a rucksack than you are an expensive purse.”

  “A rucksack is practical,” she said, smirking as she threw his words back at him. “That being said, I am still a woman. While this one may not exactly be my style it doesn’t change the fact that it is Vitton’s most expensive purse this season and it isn’t even available in stores yet.”

  “Oh, fancy.”

  “Actually, yeah, it is.” She smiled like she knew something he didn’t. “With a bag like that, we can probably figure out who she is. They only give those bags out to the rich and famous.”

  “Sounds like you just want to make a stop at Jean Vitton.”

  “So what if I do? But I think I can get what we need without going there.” She pulled up a new window on her phone and set to work, starting at the Jean Vitton website. From there, she broke into their mainframe, hacking her way straight into the sales records.

  It wasn’t the first time she’d terrified him. With a tiny bit of information this woman could do almost anything—and put nearly any federal agent to shame. If anything, she’d gotten even better at her job since the last time he’d seen her. It had to be so hard doing what she did, constantly being on the forefront of technology, a world that changed nearly every second. He would happily remain a point man for as long as he still had a job.

  “So according to their sales records, they’ve only sold five of these purses so far. They’ve given three away. And there is a wait list.” She looked up. “I bet if I put my address in here, they would send us one for free.” Her fingers trembled over the screen like she was seriously contemplating using her skill set to rig the system for herself. “The first person on the wait list is Gigi Hadid. Think about it, I can have the same purse as Gigi.”

  “I have no idea who that even is.” He reached over and took the phone from her. “I still don’t get it. I mean, how much is this purse worth anyways?”

  “Twenty Gs.” There was a breathless air to her words.

  He handed the phone back to her like by simply touching the phone he was implicating himself in the theft of something so expensive. Now he really didn’t get it. “You do know, for that kind of money you could get yourself a hell of a tactical setup.”

  She laughed. “I am more than a little aware of that.” She gave him a look like he was the dumbest man on the planet.

  “Oh, yeah. I bet you can get your tac gear on the cheap. But still, I would much rather have good gear than some stupid purse.”

  “Call it a stupid purse again and I am going to do the active-round testing of my next tactical line on you.” There was fire in her eyes, but he knew she was teasing.

  “Okay, so there’s some things I don’t understand. I’m sure I’ll never get it.” He put his hands up in surrender. “As for this fine specimen of fashion that is this purse, who are the five lucky souls chosen to possess such magnificence?”

  She couldn’t keep a straight face, no matter how badly she wanted to continue chastising him for his bad taste. “There are several socialites, one Hollywood star and one that interests me,” she said.

  “And that is?”

  “According to this, there was one that was sold to a foreign buyer. Looks like it was picked up in Dubai.”

  “What was the name of the foreign buyer?” he asked.

  “It was bought by a woman named Shaye Griest.”

  That name meant nothing to him. “Okay?” he said.

  “You ever heard of Kristen Griest or Shaye Haver?”

  He shook his head.

  “Kristin and Shaye were the only women ever to graduate from the army ranger school. These are two badass women.”

  “I don’t understand what two rangers have to do with one purse.” He racked his brain in trying to put it together.

  “When I was poking around about the Algerian prime minister and his family, I found that his oldest daughter used to be active on social media. She tweeted about Kristin and Shaye and what it means to her that these two women were able to develop their skills in such a prestigious and competitive location.”

  He still didn’t get it, and apparently the look on his face must’ve said as much.

  “That’s the pseudonym for the prime minister’s daughter, dude.” She shook her head in exasperation.

  “Oh,” he grumbled, trying to cover his embarrassment. Hopefully she’d never realized how much better a catch she was than him. If she did, he would never have a chance in getting her back.

  “Do you think that Chad is shacking up with the Algerian prime minister’s daughter?” Eli asked.

  “Or she kidnapped him.” Zoey shrugged.

  “Something about all of this isn’t making sense. Why would the Algerian government put a hit out on Chad if he was with the Algerian prime minister’s daughter? Wouldn’t it put her in danger?”

  Zoey nodded. “I know. I was thinking the same thing.” />
  “Are you sure the woman carrying the bag is the PM’s daughter?”

  “So far, in every video I’ve seen of her, this girl has been very careful to cover her face—it’s like she knows people will be using facial recognition to look for her,” Zoey said. She started pulling up videos and images of the woman on her phone.

  The woman had long dark, almost black hair in the most recent official government photos posted by the Algerians. However, the woman standing outside the building with the big sunglasses was unquestionably blonde. As he stared at the images in front of him, he could make out the same subtle curves of her jaw. And her nose was blunt and slightly upturned like a short ski jump. He couldn’t say with one hundred percent certainty that the woman from the drone’s image and the Algerian prime minister’s daughter were the same woman, but he couldn’t deny it, either. It was certainly within the realm of possibility.

  “Did you see anything on the video about Chad?” he asked.

  She gave a resigned sigh. “Not yet, but that doesn’t mean he’s not holed up in there.”

  There was the clatter of the metal gate being pushed up as the bistro behind them opened up for lunch. The woman who must’ve worked there gave them a smile and said something in Spanish to which Zoey replied.

  They needed to get out of there, before they were tracked down again. Zoey turned off her phone and stashed it in her pocket.

  They couldn’t go back to their hotel and they couldn’t keep running. He wasn’t sure what they should do next, but inaction was almost more dangerous than moving on their target. “Can you do facial recognition on the video from the drone for Chad?”

  “Already done. Nothing came up, but he could have gone in the building during the night or when the drone wasn’t posted at this location.” There was a desperation to her voice.

  Her unchecked emotions made Eli that much more on edge. It wasn’t like Zoey to just say what she was feeling or even not bother to disguise it... She was hurting, which made pain rise within him. In a way, the situation reminded him of the last time they’d been together with their baby.

  If he failed her, if Chad was hurt or killed, he would feel just as guilty as he had that day. Though he was certain he was doing the right thing, he hadn’t taken all of the consequences into consideration. Here he was thinking about coming back to work with the Martins, but he was far more likely to find himself back on Zoey’s persona non grata list than back in her life.

  Maybe he would’ve been better off getting her flowers instead of chasing her halfway across the state in order to catch a glimpse of her. As he chuckled at the thought, he knew he was lying to himself. He would give up his last breath for her. No matter how this went down, there was no way he could stop loving her.

  “What’s the prime minister’s daughter’s real name?” he asked.

  “Nihad Almaz,” she said without a pause. “She is one of three daughters and a son. The son is involved with the Algerian military, and there is talk that he will one day run the country in his father’s footsteps.”

  “Is there any talk about how his daughters feel about that?” Eli took her hand and they started slowly walking around the city, keeping the apartment building in view.

  “They haven’t said anything publicly about the situation, but it looks as though they are going to act as ambassadors for the country until the time of their marriages.”

  “None of them are married?” Eli thought of Chad.

  What if this wasn’t a kidnapping, but rather an elopement? Though Zoey seemed to be convinced that this wasn’t a romance. But if it was, it would explain why the prime minister would put out large sums of money for Chad’s head.

  But that didn’t explain the severed finger that had been served to them this morning beside their toast and eggs. Or why the PM would put his own flesh and blood in the line of fire. That was, unless the man didn’t care about his daughter’s welfare. It wasn’t unheard of for a father to disown a daughter, or son who moved against the family.

  Chad had to know they were looking for him, and he wouldn’t just run off with a woman and not give his family a heads-up. There were so many things that just weren’t making sense.

  Zoey gave him a look like she was trying to figure out what he was thinking, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to give his theory any more air than necessary.

  The last thing he wanted to do was give Zoey false hope when it came to finding her brother alive—especially given the fact they hadn’t found any trace of him in the last forty-eight hours.

  Eli nodded. Yes, there was no way his stupid theory was right. And besides, Chad was far from being the romantic in the family. This wasn’t a case of love making life go off the rails. Instead, the faceless enemy that was gnawing at their heels had to be something different, something not quite as dangerous as love but likely far more lethal.

  Chapter Fifteen

  She couldn’t stand the inaction. As she stared down the alley in the direction of the apartment building, she had never felt more impotent. They had to act. Now. She didn’t care about the danger it would put her in. She was willing and ready to kill any jackass who stood between her and her brother.

  But she couldn’t put Eli or her brother in danger by being impetuous. They had to be careful, to play this smart.

  At the same time, she’d never been known for being overly cautious.

  She gave Eli an impish grin as she thought about their next move. “Eli, what size dress do you wear?”

  “What?” Eli asked looking at her like she’d lost her mind.

  “I’m serious,” she said as a wave of excitement pulsed through her. “Think about it—we allowed room service to come into our hotel room without question. We didn’t even think about it, or at least I didn’t. If you dressed like a cleaning woman, you could probably walk right in,” she teased. “You might be our best chance to get in there.”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  Zoey laughed at his obvious discomfort. “You don’t want to get in touch with your feminine side?” She feigned a look of disappointment. “I always like a man who has a certain gentleness.”

  “I always knew that,” he teased. “Especially when we were elbow deep in the blood of our enemies in Tikrit.”

  “Absolutely,” she said with a chuckle. “There’s nothing more feminine than a little spatter on your cargo shorts... Well, that is, except for you dressing up like a cleaning lady. That would make me hot.”

  He snorted in derision. “I can get you hotter than that in plenty of other ways. I don’t need to lace up a corset and wear stockings to make you want me.”

  She paused for a moment, not quite sure what to say. He didn’t seem to notice. Instead, he continued, “But if dressing up like a woman is what I need to do to get back into your good graces, then I’ll do it. Strap on the Betty Boop wig.” His booming laugh bounced off the walls of the buildings surrounding them like a rubber ball until it rolled to a stop at her feet.

  She wasn’t laughing. Rather, she was thinking of what he had said. “You think you’re not in my good graces?”

  His face dropped, and the smile faded from his lips. He shoved his hand in his pocket, the simple motion reminding her of a man in the midst of interrogation. “Zoey, from the moment I came back and saw you in Billings, I wanted to be back in your life. Thought I made that obvious.”

  She hadn’t questioned that. “I know, and I appreciate your help. I really do.”

  “So, you’re not upset with me? You know, after what happened on the plane?” He looked at her like he was just waiting for the whip to fall.

  Maybe she had made a mistake in bringing this up. It would’ve been so much easier to just buy him a dress and let him traipse around the apartments like a cleaning woman—at least they would’ve been laughing. Instead, here they were once again dealing with the awkwardness that came wit
h their relationship.

  “I’m not upset with you. But I was embarrassed. I deserved being rejected by you after everything I put you through, but—”

  “Stop right there.” He moved closer to her. So close that she could smell the sweet scent of the nervous sweat on his skin. “What happened in the past between us—well, it can’t be undone. But I would never hold a grudge against you for decisions you made back then. We were both hurting.”

  Pangs of love rippled through her chest, like his words were a pebble dropped into the smooth surface of a lake.

  Dammit, why did he have to be so perfect? It was just too bad perfect wasn’t what she wanted in her life. She needed a man who would make mistakes, just like her. It was too much pressure if he was perfect and she was always trying to be deserving of his love. She needed someone just as screwed up as her or a relationship would never work. They had been proof of that.

  “Eli—”

  Before she could say anything, he pressed her up against the building behind them and took her lips with his. It was so unexpected, so surprising, that she didn’t know what to do. Part of her wanted to push him away, but at the same time she wanted the feeling of his lips pressed against hers and his tongue caressing the edges of her mouth like he was tasting her lips.

  She closed her eyes, and let it be. Nothing else mattered.

  That was, until he broke free of her kiss.

  She grabbed his shirt and moved to draw him closer to her, but he stopped and looked over his shoulder. “Did you see her?” he whispered.

  “See who?” she asked, momentarily forgetting everything that was happening in their lives.

  “The woman from the video, Shaye.” He nudged his chin in the direction of a small farmer’s market that was set up to the left of where they stood.

  There were at least a dozen vendors selling everything from plump, juicy-looking grapes to freshly roasted almonds. A woman passed by them, holding the hand of a young boy who was greedily stuffing bits of what must have been contraband chocolate into his mouth. He looked up at the woman, making sure she wasn’t watching as he stuffed his pudgy fingers back into the pocket of his jacket and drew out another fistful of candy.