by Kay Maree
I pull out of her, put a pillow under her head, and lie down next to her, tracing lines across her stomach.
“What’s wrong, Shan?”
“I promise I wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t coming home.”
“Done what?”
Shannon moves away from me and sits at the head of the bed with her knees drawn up, hair falling across her beautiful face as she hangs her head.
“I-I stopped taking the pill.”
“The pill? As in contraceptive?”
Shannon nods, and her shoulders shake as more tears fall. I’m stunned. Clearly, she wasn’t going to say anything to me, but because she thinks I might be coming home soon, she’s told the truth.
Fuck.
A kid isn’t something I want right now.
I thought if I did get to come home, I’d have her to myself for a while, and we could get to know each other again.
I love Shannon.
I pull her into my lap and stroke her hair until she stops crying, then I lay us both down and hold her. We don’t speak, and I know this is the moment I need to man up. I’m doing all this for her. I’m going through all this for her, and even if I’m broken and used up, she still wants me to be the father of her children.
I kiss the top her head. “For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish until death do us part.” I kiss her again. “I meant those vows. I’ll be honest and tell you I’m terrified, but Shannon, I chose you. I will always choose you.”
Shannon raises up on one elbow and with red-rimmed eyes, she smiles at me. “You mean it?”
“Yeah, babe. Do I wish we’d had a conversation about it first? Yes. But what’s done is done. If you’re pregnant, I’m taking time off, and I’m staying home for a good long while. I want to get to know you and our baby.”
Her face creases up and more tears flow.
“Babe, stop. It’s all going to be okay. We’ll work it out.”
“I-I wasn’t going to say anything. I’ve wanted a baby so badly, and this assignment is never-ending. Promise me you’ll get Alec Petrov. Promise me.”
Staring into her eyes, I nod. And right in that moment, I believe I will get Alec Petrov, but there’s a small part of me which knows he’s smart. He doesn’t make mistakes, and a lot of people have tried to bring him down. The task force I’m in is small, very few know about it. Too many agents disappeared before I managed to get in with the Harbingers of Death. The whole team is cautious. Now, if Shannon is pregnant, I need to be more careful and pray Petrov slips up, so I can be done with this whole sordid mess.
“Lay down. I want to hold you in my arms for a while and maybe get a little shut-eye.”
Shannon tucks herself back into my side, and I play with her hair until I realize she’s sleeping. Her breathing is even and slow. Rubbing my eyes with the heel of my hand, I wonder what the hell the future holds.
A wife.
A child?
And bringing down the Harbingers of Death and hopefully the Russian mob.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Wraith
I’ve been out for a run. Even in the cold extremes of Switzerland, it’s important to keep fit. When I get back to the small apartment I’ve rented, my computer screen is flashing red, meaning someone is looking for me.
I have a friend who created a program to detect if ‘unfriendlies’ had put my name into a search engine. I’m guessing all the money I spent on it is finally paying off. I type in my password to show me the IP address, then I feed this into another program, which turns out to be a branch of the FBI. Dragging over a chair, I sit and begin to delve into their computer. Within three minutes, a warning sign appears, and I know they’re tracking me, so I back out and end the connection.
Slamming shut the laptop, I head for the shower. Time to call in some favors from some old friends.
As the hot water warms me, my mind goes over who would be best to contact. I’ve made some powerful friends over the years, but all come with a cost or want me indebted to them in some way. Everyone wants something in return. One name keeps coming back to me, Suzannah Stone, but apart from a brief interlude with the Harbingers of Death MC, she’s not a good asset. Truth is, I care for her, and for me that’s dangerous—for both of us. I kept tabs on her after she fled. Suzannah was smart, she kept moving from place to place before she settled on a little seaside town. I’ve been sent surveillance photographs of her, and she looks happy.
I get out of the shower and towel off. My cell is beside the bed, so I pick it up and go through the numbers stored on it. There’s only one person I need to call, and it’s my handler. He will have also been notified that someone was looking into me.
It rings five times before a friendly voice says, “Ben’s Bakery, how may we help you?”
“This is baker one-five-seven-alpha-beta-fifteen.”
“Hello, baker, one-five-seven-alpha-beta-fifteen, according to our records you’re overdue for a delivery.”
“I’m requesting a face to face with the chef.”
“Hold, please.”
It’s a ridiculous ruse, and I’m sure we aren’t fooling anyone, but the CIA is entrenched in tradition and protocols.
“Your request has been granted. Geneva, St. Pierre Cathedral, one o’clock tomorrow. Don’t be late.”
The line goes dead, and I smile to myself. They know I’m in Switzerland. I’m not as clever as I think I am. Well, no one has tried to kill me, so perhaps they realize I’m here on a mission to save my daughter.
I dress for the short walk to the facility where Ann is located. As I step out onto the street, a van pulls up, and the side door slides open.
“Jamison, old buddy, you’re not going to be difficult, are you?”
It’s an old special ops buddy, and he has a Glock in one hand, pointed at me.
“No, Billy, I won’t.” I climb into the van and sit next to him. “How long have you known where I was?”
“From the beginning. We were worried with the whole Harbingers of Death thing that you’d gone off the rails, but when you landed here with Ann, well… let’s say… all was forgiven.”
“Really?”
Billy shakes his head. “Almost all.”
“Is Tompkins still in charge.”
Billy grins and shakes his head slightly. “Got promoted. You’re about to meet your new handler.”
The both of us fall into silence. I close my eyes and try to listen to the surroundings in case I have to find my way back. Billy chuckles beside me, and I crack open one eye to look at him.
“Old habits die hard, hey?”
“You know it. I was scheduled to meet tomorrow. Why’d you step up the meet?”
“Don’t stress, J. She wants you thrown off guard to see how you’ll perform. We’re taking you to a public place. The new boss wants a sit-down, nothing more. She’s been waiting on you to make contact. If you don’t mind me saying, it took you long enough. I’ve been freezing my ass off here for far too long. I prefer sunnier regions.”
“You know why I’m here.”
“Yes, and it’s the only reason you’re alive. How’s Ann doing?”
“Like you don’t know. Who’s the new boss?”
Billy smiles and shakes his head. “All will be revealed. We’re only going as far as Orsieres. It should take us less than an hour.”
“You’re not here to dispose of me?”
Billy gives me his eyes, and although he’s smiling, there’s no emotion behind them. “Not yet. Day’s young, though.”
It’s a certain breed of human being who gets chosen for black ops. We have the ability to turn on and off our emotions, or a better way to word it is to ‘compartmentalize.’ I have Ann, and my love for her buried deep within me. Perhaps not deep enough if the CIA can track us here.
The car comes to halt in front of a tavern. I glance at Billy.
“Time for
you to get out. Go on in, you’ll recognize her when you see her.”
I climb out and am surprised to see he still has his gun in his hand. Billy sees me staring at it.
“Old habits die hard.”
“Indeed,” I agree as I slam the door shut.
***
The tavern has a few patrons as I casually stroll through, looking for a familiar face. When I get to the back of the building, I see her, Angelica Strauss. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her, her once long hair is cut short in a pixie style and dyed a light brown. A small smile plays on her lips, and she nods at me as I make my way toward her.
Angelica started out in this organization as a specialist like me, but unlike me, she found out the secrets of those above her and obviously used it as leverage to move her way up. We did a few missions together—she was deadly with no remorse.
“Angelica.” I slide into the booth opposite her.
She already has a pitcher of beer and two glasses on the table.
“Jamison, you look well.” I pour the beer into the glasses and take a sip. “How do you know I didn’t spike it?”
“If you wanted me dead, I’d be dead. So, boss, what gives?”
Angelica puts a file on the tabletop between us and slides it over.
“This is for you. Clean up your mess and come back to work. You have three months.”
I cock my head to the side. “You are giving me a green light for this?”
Angelica shrugs. “I owe you for the Milan fiasco. I believe in repaying my debts.”
“I wouldn’t use that little debacle against you. It’s not my style.”
Angelica copies me and cocks her head to the side and then scoffs. “Honor among working colleagues. Who’d a thunk it?”
“Now we’ve sorted that out… you owe me nothing. Do I still have a green light?”
Angelica taps the file. “Alec Petrov is bad news. He’s not only running girls, but he’s got his fingers into gun-running, drugs, and as of recently, we believe he’s making a move to buy a dirty bomb. We need him and his organization gone.”
Now, this all makes sense. I have insider information, I’m familiar with the target, it’s why I’m being given the okay.
“What do you need?”
“We need the name of the procurer he’s using for the bomb, and we’d like all the other affiliates of his organization brought down. Do you need a team?”
“No,” I reply instantly.
Angelica raises one delicate eyebrow at me. “I’m giving you carte blanche. It’s okay to ask for help.”
“I don’t need it. In and out. Quiet. No fuss.”
Angelica takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Don’t disappoint me, Jamison.”
“Or?”
Angelica smiles, it’s frosty with no warmth. “We know your weakness now.”
Ann.
She means Ann.
This fucking bitch threatened my girl.
I lean in closer to her. The smile on her face is frozen, much like her heart. “You know I said I’d never use your past against you? Threaten my girl again, and we’ll see how much the CIA and the Mossad like you.”
“There’s my wolf.” Angelica slaps the table and stands. “Good luck. If you need assistance, you know how to find me.”
Angelica gives me what I am sure is her best-winning smile and saunters out of the building.
Right now, she needs me, but there will come a day when I’m a threat to her, and she’ll try to take me out.
Today is not that day.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jax
The clubhouse is full of MC, whores, and a few old ladies. Just about everyone has come to greet me as their new president. Hook is at the bar, nursing a whiskey. Something’s on the man’s mind as he avoids conversations with other members and keeps to himself. Reaper watches me like a hawk, hoping I’ll fuck up, and he’ll get to put me down. Tank has a club whore on his lap and is grinning like he’s won the lottery.
I approach Hook, who gives me a sideways glance.
“Prez?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Woman problems.”
“Well, fuck me. Didn’t realize you had a steady fuck.”
“Wouldn’t call it that. But I like her, you know?” Hook frowns as he stares into his drink.
“Pussy whipped?”
One side of his mouth dips down, and he raises his eyebrows. “Must be. Fucking women, hey?”
“Need to talk about it?”
“Fuck, no.”
Hook straightens up and says, “Got some info on the Felders. It’s not much.”
Cocking my head to the side, I ask, “Why the fuck didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“It’s not much.”
“My office. Now.”
I gesture for Reaper to follow, and Tank sees us moving, so he sets his whore on her feet and joins us. I sit behind the desk, and they all filter in. Tank closes the door.
“Tell us,” I state.
Hook folds his body into a chair and looks bored. “Father was army. Real name, Jamison Felder. Mother is Raquel, she lives in Springfield with a boyfriend. No sign of Ann or the father.”
“Did you talk to her?” asks Reaper.
“Not yet.”
“Why the fuck not?” asks Tank.
“I only got this intel yesterday. So cool your fucking jets, Tank. I don’t answer to you.”
“No, but you do answer to me. Take Tank, pay her a visit. See what she knows,” I order.
Hook nods and gives Tank a death stare. “Let’s go. Now.”
“What? I was about to get my dick wet.”
“Maybe the mother will help you out,” I tease.
A predatory smile goes across Tank’s face, and he nods. “I like the sound of that.”
Hook stands. “You’re a sick motherfucker, you know that, Tank?”
“What? Nothing wrong with a little bit of fun.”
“Tank, go wait out front,” orders Reaper.
“Fine.” Tank ambles out and slams the door.
Reaper looks at my Sergeant at Arms. “Hook, I’ve known you a long time, what gives?”
“Fucking nothing. It’s a low man who forces a woman.” He scrubs a hand over his face and looks at me. “I’ll get it done.”
“I know you will.”
“Reaper, he goes nowhere alone. Yeah?”
Reaper looks from Hook to me. “I got him.”
Hook punches him on the arm on the way to the door. “And Prez, you watch your back.”
I frown slightly at his retreating form and wait until the door is closed before I ask, “Do you know who he’s fucking?”
Reaper looks at me surprised. “He’s got a woman?”
“Yeah.”
“First I’ve heard of it.”
I nod and point at the chair opposite me. “Petrov put money in our off-shore accounts. He’s got a hard-on for his wife. What’s so special about her?”
Reaper shrugs and sits. “Fucked if I know. As far as I can tell, she’s another female. The shipment of illegals should be here tomorrow. The new holding facility is good. Soundproof to boot. There are twenty cages to detain them. Much better than the last place.”
“Good. Weed out the virgins, let the boys have free run with the others. How’s the new scout doing?”
His lips turn down. “She’s not as good as Karen, and she’s got a love affair with the horse.” Horse is slang for heroin.
“Should make it easier to control her?”
Reaper shakes his head. “I think we need another scout.”
“Dispose of her. Pick a club whore, one who can be cleaned up. Have her hang out at the bus shelters for new talent. We get more for young, white females, so make sure she presents nice.”
Reaper nods. “Done.”
CHAPTER NINE
Hook
Fucking Tan
k is excited at the thought of raping Raquel Felder. The fucker looks like a kid on Christmas morning. I park my bike around the corner from her house and wait for him to pull up next to me.
He turns off his bike and looks at me. “Is this her house?”
“No, she lives around the corner. We’re walking the rest of the way.”
“What the fuck?”
“Use your fucking head. If we rough her up, we don’t want to advertise us being there by parking in her damn front yard.”
Tank grins at me. “Yeah, you’re right. Good call, man. But I figured we’d kill her.”
“We’ll not be killing anyone.”
Tank looks taken aback. “Why not? If she gives us the information we want, why not kill her?”
“Do you want the Wraith coming after you?”
“Ahh… so you want to use her as bait?”
These bikers have no sense of decency. Women are tools to be used, traded, and disposed of. I nod at him, and he smiles.
We walk to her front door, and there’s no one in the neighborhood. A few curtains open as we walk past, but no one comes out to eyeball us. I knock hard on her front door, and within a few minutes, a guy opens the door.
“Yes?”
“Is Raquel home?” I ask.
“No.” He doesn’t ask us any questions. He simply stands there staring at us.
“Do you know when she’ll be home?”
“No.”
“You her boyfriend?” asks Tank.
“Why do you want to know?”
Alarm bells are going off in my head. This guy has one hand behind the door and isn’t even flinching at the sight of us. I take a step back, but Tank takes a step forward.
“We’re friends of hers, maybe we could come in and wait?”
“No.”
Tank’s face curls up in anger as he forces his way inside. The guy sidesteps him and hits him hard with a baton. Tank goes down, and I’m left there open-mouthed, wondering what the fuck I should do.
He opens the door wider. “Come in, Flint. Let’s have a conversation.”
“Who the fuck are you?” I ask as I close the door behind me.
