Hidden Agendas

by Lora Leigh

  “And what does he want?” Jordan’s voice was lethal, rasping with fury.

  “Information.” Macey sighed as he wiped his hand over his harsh, weary face. “Nathan was one of the elite, as you know, Jordan. He had information very few men have. So far, he hasn’t broken, but our Mr. White thinks it’s only a matter of time.”

  Emily flinched as she sat on the floor beside Kell’s chair. That name, Mr. White. She frowned, feeling the dark areas of her mind shifting, shadows within shadows and a haunting cry. Who was crying?

  “Okay?” Kell’s hand settled on her shoulder as she nodded quickly.

  The doctors had been confident that those memories were never going to return. They were locked in forever by the effects of that drug.

  She lifted her gaze, meeting her father’s eyes as he sat in the chair across from them. His expression was somber, and filled with grief for Nathan, she knew. He had helped train Nathan, had loved him as he had loved all the men he had fought with and trained.

  “Our Mr. White gets around,” Jordan spat out with loathing. “He’s managed to betray the identities of several SEALs on mission as well as DEA and Homeland Security agents over the past year alone. He’s feeding Fuentes, but my sources say he’s feeding the terrorist Sorrell as well, and betraying Fuentes with each turn of the knife.”

  “He’s also taken out several OHS Agents,” Kira confirmed from where she sat at the bar.

  Printouts were laid out on the table from several files. Transmissions and agency reports that had been gathered over several months.

  “Fuentes doesn’t deal in terrorism,” Ian muttered then, his ruined voice gravelly and harsh. “The information we’ve gathered says he’s fighting the merger Sorrell is attempting to make.”

  “Because it’s not a merger, it’s an overthrow, with Fuentes standing as cover for the terrorist. It takes Fuentes’s power and his control and leaves him vulnerable against the law enforcement agencies searching for him,” Jordan mused, while the others went through the papers, took in the information, then placed them back in the folders.

  “So we have Fuentes, his spy Mr. White, and Sorrell all with their little fingers involved in our operation now,” Kell bit out. “Fuentes has definitely sent out a kidnapper. Are there any other threats?”

  Emily watched her father flinch before he answered. “There’s information that Sorrell has asked to take possession of Emily once she’s been kidnapped.”

  Emily reached up, gripping Kell’s leg where it tensed beside her. She had heard of Sorrell. The unidentified terrorist traded regularly in human flesh. Kidnapped young women whom he kept drugged and used as sex toys within his organization.

  “Without Fuentes’s network and his contacts, Sorrell can’t achieve the foothold he wants here in the U.S.,” Macey broke in at that point. “And without Fuentes, Mr. White can’t eliminate the threat the senator is posing.”

  “Have we gained any information on what that threat is?” Kell asked.

  “Whoever Mr. White is, he’s a known associate of mine,” her father answered, his jaw clenching in anger. “I’ve figured out that much. And he has to be one of the senators or private members of the committees I’m on. The bill I’m trying to get through Congress at the moment focuses on a stronger checks-and-balance system for assuring that those committees aren’t infiltrated by men like Mr. White. The bill has an investigative plan attached to it. If it’s passed by the Senate, then Mr. White won’t be able to hide any longer.”

  “Bingo,” Kell muttered. “Then it doesn’t have anything to do with the destruction of the Fuentes compound during the rescue, or the new laws you’re trying to put through against the drug suppliers and dealers that are arrested?”

  Richard Stanton shook his head wearily. “I suspected that was it, until the last transmission Macey received. Mr. White agreed with Sorrell’s demands that he hold Emily in exchange for my good behavior,” he snarled, his tone cutting. “If it were retaliation, they would have killed her outright by now and that bill is the only thing that could interest Sorrell, Mr. White, and Fuentes all at once.”

  Which meant the stakes were much higher than any of them had realized. If Fuentes’s kidnapper actually managed to take her, then she may as well consider her life over.

  Kell tightened his hand at Emily’s shoulder briefly as he stared back at the senator, meeting the other man’s gaze directly.

  He had to fight to keep from pulling her out now, to steal away to that safe house he knew was available. He would keep her there, protect her himself, shadow her every move. But for how long? Without her, the kidnapper would fade away, and Fuentes would make certain the next strike was one they couldn’t guard against.

  As with all his games, he was playing by a predetermined set of rules right now. Keep the queen on the board, and the game would progress. Remove the prize and he would strike immediately.

  “Judas is certain the attempt is going to be made at the Andover ball,” Ian said then. “Sorrell and Fuentes’s spy, Mr. White, will be in attendance. There will be over six hundred guests at that party. There’s no way in hell to narrow down who is who in the amount of time we have, even if we did have the information to do it.”

  “So we’re walking in blind,” Emily said faintly then, looking at each of the men, as Kell fought to hold back the fury he could feel rising in his gut.

  “Durango Team will be at the party,” Reno said then. “All of us will be there before you arrive and our priority is making certain you aren’t taken. Kira Porter has also been assigned to the mission. White won’t have the chance to take you, though he and his cohorts will feel confident enough to make the attempt. Then we’ll have him. And our sources say he will know who White is.”

  White. The name clashed inside her head, sending an ache of tension to center behind her eyes. Why the hell did that name keep affecting her?

  “Emily?” her father asked then.

  She shook her head. “Mr. White.” She worried the name through her mind. “Every time you mention him I swear I get cold chills and a headache.” She rubbed at her brow.

  “Whore’s Dust will do that.” Her father grimaced. “You likely heard the name while you were there, sweetheart. It’s a code name Fuentes gave his spy. And Fuentes likes to brag to his victims. That’s probably where you heard it.”

  It was a reasonable explanation. She had been in the Fuentes compound nearly forty-eight hours before her rescue; he could have done a lot of bragging in that time.

  “The party is in two nights,” Kell stated behind her, his voice dark, the shadow of his Cajun accept barely coloring his words—but the fact that it was there was telling. “There are some things I need. I’ll make a list and give it to Ian tonight.”

  “You’ll have everything you need, Kell.” The admiral spoke up at that point. “Myself and Captain Malone have also been invited to the party. We’ll provide what backup we can.”

  “What about Jansen Clay?” Emily asked. “He’ll want to help, because of Risa.”

  Her father and the admiral shook their heads at once. “This information is need to know only, Emily,” her father said. “As highly as I think of Jansen, I can’t trust his temper. Risa’s in bad shape, from what I hear. He’s as likely to go vigilante as he is to follow orders.”

  Daddy! Help me! Emily jerked violently at the cry that tore through her head and the sense of terror that had her coming to her feet, nearly stumbling before Kell rose and caught her in his arms.

  “Emily?” he questioned her roughly. “What’s wrong?”

  She swallowed tightly, fighting back the burning bile that rose in her throat.

  “I’m sorry.” She shook her head fiercely as she fought the revulsion building inside her. “I didn’t meant to do that.” She felt like tearing her hair out in an attempt to tear out the memories.

  “It’s the discussion. Talking about it pulls at fractured memories that make no sense.” The admiral’s voice was a vicious growl. �
�That bastard Fuentes has a lot to answer for.”

  Emily nodded jerkily. The doctors and psychologists had pages of information they had given her, enough for a book, on the side effects of the synthetic drug Fuentes’s genius scientist had created. The mad bastard had at least been paranoid enough to keep the secret of how to make it hidden from Fuentes. With his death, the secret had died with him, making the remaining Whore’s Dust a lost commodity on the drug market.

  “I’ll be okay.” She pulled back from Kell slowly, avoiding his gaze, feeling weak, ineffective in her own defense now.

  “Yes, you will.” His hands tightened on her shoulders before one lifted and moved to her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. “It’s not your fault, Emily.”

  She was aware of the other men in the room and the fact that they, along with her father, were witnessing her weakness. And she hated that. It only proved to her father that she wasn’t as strong or as brave as she thought she was.

  “I know that.” Her smile was tight as she pulled back. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I need to go wash my face.”

  She needed to escape. She needed to regain her composure before she talked any more about Fuentes.

  KELL WATCHED HER LEAVE, HIS jaw bunching with the effort it took not to follow her, not to comfort her. His head swung around to encompass the men staring back at him thoughtfully before he pushed his fingers through his hair and started after her.

  “Kell. Give her a minute,” the senator said, his voice rough. “Just a few minutes.”

  Kell jerked around. “Why?”

  The other man shook his head. “She’s feeling weak. If you go in there and comfort her, you’ll make her feel weaker, and she’ll hate that.”

  “This coming from the man who tries to chain her to any and every controlling asshole he can find?” Kell snapped back furiously. “How would you know what makes her weak or strong?”

  Rather than becoming angry, the senator’s lips twitched with an edge of humor.

  “Between me and you, son, I knew those controlling assholes didn’t have a chance. Just as I knew that eventually you’d get tired of watching me send them to her and take the job yourself. Just as you’ve done.”

  Kell’s eyes narrowed as Richard leaned back in his chair and regarded him with a slight smile.

  “She can outshoot most men I know.” He ticked off a finger. “She goes to Gator Jack’s to learn how to fight. She’s nearly talked her shooting instructor into letting her into an open practice range normally reserved for law enforcement and military, and the woman can maneuver through rush-hour traffic like a defensive-driving instructor.” He continued to count off fingers. “She thinks that damned research will help her write a book, when the book is just an excuse to research crap guaranteed to piss me off and make her bodyguards crazy. On top of this, you’ve been following her for the better part of five years whenever you’re home on leave, and you have an annoying habit of threatening her bodyguards whenever you catch them looking at her with anything other than polite interest.”

  Kell felt like squirming.

  “I may not be in action anymore, son, but I’m not a SEAL for nothing. My daughter is damned strong, but she doesn’t take orders worth a damn. And when it comes to women, neither do you. You two needed a solid kick in your asses years ago. I just gave you one.”

  “You couldn’t have predicted this,” Kell snapped, referring to Fuentes’s attempts on Emily.

  “No, I didn’t.” The senator breathed out wearily as he shook his head then. “But I didn’t have to. I knew it was just a matter of time before you stepped in anyway.”

  Kell stared at the men around him, their efforts to hold back their amusement bringing a snarl to his lips.

  “Sit down, Kell.” The admiral waved his hand toward the chair. “Richard’s right. Give the girl a chance to find her composure before you go to her. She’s a woman; better learn now when to comfort her tears and when not to.”

  Was she crying? His gaze snapped to the closed door. God help him if she was in there crying alone.

  “I can make that an order, Lieutenant,” the admiral reminded him. “Give us ten more minutes, then you can go to her. We still have a few things to discuss here.”

  Clenching his fists, Kell sat back down slowly, determined that if he heard so much as a whimper from the bathroom then orders be damned, there wasn’t a chance in hell that he would stay put.

  As he breathed out a frustrated sigh, his gaze lifted, locking with Ian’s where he stood behind the senator, leaning casually against the wall. For a moment, just a moment, he could have sworn he saw grief reflected in the other man’s eyes. Not that it would have been the first time he caught that flash of emotion. Just as before it was gone as quickly as it had come, and the ever-present mocking amusement took its place.

  “Securing the Andover mansion is going to be a bitch,” Reno said, interrupting Kell’s thoughts, drawing his gaze back to the group and a plan of the house and grounds that Reno was laying on the table. “It’s an old plantation mansion with several wings and additions. There’s no sign of hidden entrances or tunnels, so we’re lucky there.” A Southern plantation home with no hidden tunnels or entrances. Hell, someone had been confident when they built that house.

  “What we do have”—Macey sat forward to point to the grounds—“are unfenced grounds, thick woods, and so many damned guests we’re going to want to start taking potshots. Look alive, boys, and I’ll show you what I’ve done.” He rubbed his hands together gleefully then as he glanced at Kell. “I’ve procured a handy little flesh-toned transmitter to attach to Emily. And getting those bad boys wasn’t easy, let me tell you. If—and I stress the if—she’s taken, then we’ll at least have a chance to get her coordinates. It’s called hedging our bets. I’ve also tapped into the Andovers’ security cameras and the Secret Service boys working with us will have monitor duty. We can go over the recordings after the party and see who we can see. We’re going to catch this son of a bitch, and when we do, he’s going to tell us where Nathan is. God help him then, because there won’t be nothin’ of Mr. White left once we get finished with him.”

  Violence simmered in the air, flashed in the gazes of each man there. Mr. White, whoever the hell he was, had tortured Nathan to the point that there wasn’t a chance he would ever be the same again.

  The laughing Irishman, they had once called him. His mother had come from Ireland with her parents, and Nathan’s grandfather’s accent had influenced Nathan’s speech as a child. With his bright blue eyes and broad, amused smile, he had charmed the women and talked his way out of more trouble than any man had a right to be able to.

  His luck had run out when Fuentes captured him though. There was no amusement in the eyes of the man in the photos Macey had printed out. There was madness, rage—death. There was nothing of the man Kell had known and often called a brother.

  There would be even less of Emily left if Sorrell managed to get his hands on her. The tales of his tortures, of the lives his women led, were the stuff of nightmares. Fuentes was playing sandbox games compared to Sorrell.

  “Judas’s last contact promised backup if she is taken,” Macey stated. “Whether we can trust him or not, I’m not saying. I know in the last two years, he’s not screwed us over yet.”

  “She won’t be taken,” Kell informed them all, the guttural tone of his voice almost shocking him. “We cover her and she won’t be taken. Then we’ll watch the security recordings Macey takes and we’ll find the bastard there. Emily is not to be left undefended.”

  “We’ll protect Emily and we’ll find Nathan,” Ian said then. “No matter the cost.”

  “No matter the cost,” they repeated.

  But the edge in Ian’s voice had Kell’s gaze returning to him once again. Nathan had been Ian’s closest friend, even as a teenager, and Kell knew Ian had grieved harder than the rest of them when they lost the other man.

  Ian would die for any of his brothers, but for
Nathan, he would have sold his own soul. A chill raced up Kell’s spine at the thought. If Ian got to Mr. White or Sorrell before the rest of the team managed to pull him off them, God only knew what would happen.

  Twenty-three

  NIGHTMARES TWISTED THROUGH EMILY’S DREAMS that night, making her sleep restless despite Kell’s best attempts to help her rest. When she awoke the next morning she was tired and cranky, and the nervous panic filling her stomach made her feel weaker than ever.

  She hated this feeling. She had never known true fear until Fuentes kidnapped her, and since then, she had sworn she would never feel it again. Now, the closer the Andover party came, the more the nerves twisted in her stomach and the more upset her nightmares left her.

  Because she couldn’t remember them. They were right there at the edge of her memory as she awoke, but they never slid from the shadows enough for her to grasp them.

  And they had never left her fighting with the sick feeling of panic that rose within her this morning.

  Tomorrow night, they would arrive at the Andover ball, and she had a feeling that whatever happened there, nothing would ever be the same again.

  Shaking her head at the thought, Emily finished her shower before quickly drying her hair and dressing in a pair of soft cotton shorts and a matching camisole top. The light material was cool and comfortable, clothes she normally wore when she was arranging research notes on her computer and plotting her books.

  She glanced at the laptop as she left her bedroom, and breathed out a sigh of regret. It would have to wait just a little bit longer. The book she had almost finished and that her agent was so excited about seemed part of another world right now, a world she couldn’t go back to until after tomorrow night. Everything hinged on tomorrow night.