Hit List

by Jack McSporran

  Leon’s shoulders shook up and down, and he covered his eyes like he was ashamed. Maggie pried his hands away to look into his eyes, to let him know she was there and always would be.

  “It’s just,” he started, as more tears fell, the anguish on his face breaking Maggie’s heart.

  It took a few minutes for him to settle down enough to speak.

  “Everything I thought I fought for was a lie. Bishop ruined everything, and now I can’t even keep my agents safe in his place.”

  Maggie opened her mouth to stress to him it wasn’t true, but stopped. How could she tell him otherwise when she felt the exact same way?

  “We didn’t know,” she said instead, something she’d repeated over and over again to herself since learning the truth.

  “We should have,” Leon said, shaking his head in disbelief. “We’re spies, for Christ’s sake. How could we have been so blind?”

  “We trusted him!” It was a simple truth, but a tough pill to swallow all the same.

  Leon stared at his feet, elbows on his knees and eyes glossed with a real, gut-wrenching pain Maggie had been doing everything to push aside in herself. Seeing her turmoil reflected in Leon made it worse. Made it real, and unavoidable.

  “He betrayed us. Betrayed us all. He sent every last one of us on his side missions. Hid them in piles of paperwork and false evidence used to justify sending us to do his dirty work.” Leon met her gaze for the first time. “There are so many of them, Mags. I’ve gone through them, over and over again. So many names written in black and white who shouldn’t be there. So many innocent people dead by our hands. By my hands.”

  Tears fell as Maggie listened, her own pain rising from the depths where she’d shoved it away to be forgotten. To never be dealt with, like so many things in her life.

  “How do I even begin to make things right?” Leon asked, pleading to her, like Maggie had the answers. “How do I wake up each day and do my job as if none of it happened? Like I didn’t kill a good, honest man in Peru who left three children and a wife behind? Like the woman in Egypt who I killed to line the pockets of the very people we are supposed to be fighting against? How can I sleep at night knowing what I’ve done? How could you ever love me knowing what I’ve done?”

  “What we’ve done,” Maggie said, reminding him he wasn’t alone. That this was as much her burden as it was his. “Up on the roof at Saint Paul’s, Bishop admitted he’d sent me out the most on those missions of his.”

  “I know,” Leon said, a haunted look across his handsome features. “It was all in his files.”

  Leon knew. Knew everything she’d done on Bishop’s orders. Knew which of the missions she’d gone over and over in her head were legit and which were not. Leon knew her death toll of innocents, a number she couldn’t bear to even guess. He knew it all, and yet still sat there with her instead of running.

  “Is that why you stayed in Somalia instead of coming home when you should have?” Maggie asked. “Why you went at all instead of sending another agent? Guilt?”

  “I had to do something. Had to make a difference to try to somehow make up for everything I’ve done under Bishop’s leadership. To prove there was still something worth fighting for.”

  “By getting killed in the line of duty?”

  “I sometimes think it’s what I deserve.”

  “No, now you’re being stupid,” Maggie snapped. “If you weren’t so beaten up already, I’d kick your arse, Leon Frost.”

  Leon gave a hollow laugh. “Thanks.”

  “Do you think I deserve to be punished for what I’ve done under Bishop’s orders?” Maggie asked. If he felt that way about himself, what did he think of her when she had done far worse for Bishop than he had?

  Leon leaned in closer to her, his brows furrowed. “Of course not. You didn’t know.”

  “And neither did you,” Maggie said, relief flooding through her at his response. “Why is it any different?”

  “You’d do the same,” Leon retorted. “The very things you praise me for are the same things you beat yourself up about. Killing, lying, spying, all of it. You have this warped image of me in your head that I’m some kind of hero, yet you can’t see it in yourself. I’m half the agent you are, and even with Bishop’s missions, you’ve done so much better for this world than bad. I wish you could see it.”

  “I understand why you went,” Maggie admitted, avoiding the other stuff Leon said. She wasn’t ready to see herself as a good person. Not after everything she’d done. Didn’t know if she’d ever be able to see herself the way she saw Leon. “It was still bloody stupid of you,” she continued, “but I understand. It was nobler than what I did. I ran away, telling myself I needed a vacation. I just couldn’t face it, any of it. Knowing what he made us do. The lies he told us and the deeds we carried out without ever questioning him. We trusted him, and he abused that trust in the worst possible way.”

  “What now?” Leon asked, like a lost little boy, more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him.

  “We do what we always do,” Maggie said, knowing she needed to be strong for him. For herself, and everyone who depended on them. “We fight.”

  “I don’t know if I have any fight left in me,” Leon admitted.

  Maggie leaned her forehead against his, so close their noses touched. “Well, you better find some fight. I can’t take down Dalca’s syndicate and save Helmsley and Tamira all by myself. I need you, Leon.”

  His dark eyes bore into her soul. “I need you too, Maggie. I always have.”

  “Fight for us,” Maggie insisted, trepidation welling in her for what she was about to profess. “Once this is all over, we can be together. I’m done pushing away what I want. I’m done with the Unit, and all the bullshit that comes with it, including us not being able to be together. I love you, Leon, and I want us to finally give things a shot. A real shot this time, not just some fling in a foreign country before we go back to our lives at home. You are my home, and I want to be with you. If you’ll still have me?”

  “Now you’re the one being stupid.” Leon laughed amid his tears and wiped Maggie’s from her cheek with a thumb, stopping at her lips. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Maggie.”

  The undeniable pull between them drew them closer amid their heightened emotions, the thrill and fear in their honesty coming to a head and bringing them together.

  Maggie opened her mouth and waited to taste his lips. Leon cupped her face, his calloused hands rough and familiar against her skin, and she leaned into his touch.

  Unable to wait any longer, she bridged the short gap between them and kissed him hard and deep, putting everything she felt behind it. All of her emotion and love for him, and the hope she’d held onto for so long that they would one day be together.

  Leon responded in kind, pulling her toward him and onto his lap. He was already hard, and Maggie writhed against him, resulting in a deep, sensual moan from him that sang like music to her ears.

  They fell into a rhythm, old and new all at once. Leon kissed along her neck, knowing which spots made her squirm in pleasure, whispering his love for her as he did, his hands running down her back and along her aching thighs.

  Maggie’s stomach reminded her of her slash and the stitches holding her together, but she ignored it, her need for Leon outweighing the discomfort of her injury.

  Leon helped her out of her T-shirt and tossed it to the floor, taking her breasts in his hands and kissing them, too. He continued south to initiate foreplay, but Maggie stopped him and forced him back against the couch.

  “No, I need you inside me. Now.”

  She hopped off and freed herself of her pajama shorts, ridding Leon of his boxers next, and returned to him.

  “I love you, Leon,” she shuddered into his ear as he gasped in pleasure. She spent the rest of their time alone together showing him just how much.

  Chapter 29

  London, Great Britain

  * * *

  The pilots came through a
nd managed to secure them a flight time as soon as possible, the short ride through the skies having them back in their home city by noon.

  “They’ve really gone over and above,” Maggie said of the long-suffering pilots and cabin attendant, Craig.

  “And they’re being paid nicely for it, too,” Ashton assured, parking the car in the lot of Her Majesty’s Prison Belmarsh.

  Leon had arranged another meeting with Ivan Dalca, and this time all of them were done messing around. It was time to end this, once and for all.

  Much to everyone’s frustration, Helmsley’s abduction didn’t change matters much in the eyes of the government. At least officially. Dalca and his crew were deemed terrorists for their exploits, and the government categorically did not negotiate with terrorists. Behind closed doors, however, they were a mess. The ripple effect of the secrets the Romanians held over their heads was unprecedented, and all of them could agree those secrets must not be made public.

  Unfortunately, it was the only thing they seemed to agree on. Meetings were called, debates were had, and still they couldn’t agree on a plan, even if it meant protecting the lives of their agents. They’d called in experts, made reports, and done everything other than provide a solution.

  They never argued as much with each other when it came to their own interests. When a salary increase for MPs was up for debate, they were all in agreement before noon and back to their second homes in time for lunch. Ensuring national security, avoiding international conflict, and saving key assets from being compromised? Well, that required thought. Time. And catered lunches and dinners.

  Bloody bureaucrats.

  Time was one thing they didn’t have on their side, so Maggie made the decision to let the government officials fight amongst themselves while she and her boys made moves to put a stop to Ivan Dalca and his syndicate before they could ruin any more lives.

  Leon rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and stole a kiss to her cheek before putting his Unit chief face on.

  Their recent reunion hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ashton, who never missed a trick with Maggie. “Back to shagging, then?” he said with a grin. “About time.”

  Maggie hid a smile and freed herself of her seat belt to join Leon outside the car.

  “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked Ashton.

  Her best friend shook his head. “No, thanks. I spend most of my time trying to avoid prison. I’m not about to walk into one of my own free will.”

  Maggie shrugged. It was a fair enough point. “Suit yourself.”

  Harold the governor waited for them by the entrance, the sky above overcast and blocking the sun. At least the rain had stayed away.

  “Where’s Grace?” he asked, eyeing them both.

  “She’s wrapped up in meetings, so she sent us instead.” Leon held out his hand. “Leon Frost. This is my colleague, Maggie Black.”

  “We’ve met,” Maggie said, avoiding the man’s sweaty grip. ‘Where is he?”

  Harold took the hint and led them inside. “In his cell.”

  They’d given up torturing him, then.

  “I assume he hasn’t said anything of importance?” Leon inquired.

  “Other than calling me everything under the sun, no.”

  “You’ll love him,” Maggie said as they passed through electronically locked doors and the general population wing. It was lunchtime inside, so most of the prisoners were in the cafeteria.

  “We’re moving him first thing tomorrow,” the governor informed them.

  “Why?” Belmarsh was a maximum-security prison. Even Maggie would have a hard time getting in or out unnoticed.

  “We’ve had multiple threats, bombs and the like. Now we have news that the Romanians are here, and we suspect they may try to break him out. This mess is causing too much of a stir, and the PM wants Dalca moved out of the way without his people catching on.”

  Maggie rolled her eyes behind his back. “Glad she’s decided to help. I wish she would bloody well give it a rest already.”

  “Where are you moving him?” Leon asked. They reached solitary confinement and were allowed through by an armed guard, their voices echoing off the bare walls.

  Harold stopped by the door on the end of the cell block and turned to them. “Classified.”

  Leon arched an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “Yip.” Governor Harold crossed his arms, looking very pleased with himself. “Everything’s on a need-to-know basis. You understand.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t want to compromise your operation here,” Leon said, somehow managing to keep a straight face. He nodded to the prison cell door. “Should we see if he’s in, then?”

  Harold motioned to the prison guard, and he unlocked the solid metal door that screeched open with a whine.

  The stench hit Maggie first, and she recoiled. “You might have showered him.”

  “I would have thought you’d like it dirty,” came the Romanian’s voice from within.

  Leon’s fists clenched, and Maggie placed a warning hand against his back. This conversation needed to go well if they had any hopes of stopping Ivan’s syndicate.

  “Ivan,” said Leon, stepping forward and taking up most of the door, “why don’t we speak somewhere a little less confined.”

  The governor began to argue, but Leon stood up straight and stared him down. “A meeting room would be ideal, and please, get Mr. Dalca a warm cup of tea and something to eat. He’s looking a little thin.”

  “Well, he should,” Harold gruffed. “We haven’t been feeding him.”

  “A meeting room, if you please,” Leon repeated.

  “Right, well, you can use our staff room.”

  “Lead the way,” Leon ordered, emulating Helmsley in the way she assumed the role of being in charge wherever she went. “Come on, Ivan.”

  Maggie let Ivan hobble in front of her so she could keep an eye on him, even if it left her downwind of his unwashed body. She didn’t trust him not to try anything, even in his current state. Almost as battered as Leon, he had an array of nasty bruises and abrasions peeking from the sleeves and collar of his orange jumpsuit, his face various shades of purple and muddy yellow.

  The staff room wasn’t far, but Ivan was out of breath by the time they reached it. They sat down, Ivan across from Maggie and Leon, though they’d foregone the need for handcuffs. It was a sad affair inside, the white paint yellowed and stained with splashes of tea around the kettle, the bin overflowing, and a stale smell to the carpet.

  The tea was made, and a tray of the prison lunch was found for Ivan, which he wasted no time demolishing. They really had been starving him.

  “That’ll be all,” Leon told the governor who made to sit, not paying the man any attention. Maggie knew what he was doing, making it clear to Ivan he didn’t like the man who’d been in charge of mistreating him.

  Harold left with his tail between his legs, slamming the door a little harder than necessary.

  “Where is the Director General?” Ivan asked with a satisfied smirk once he finished eating.

  “Busy,” Leon responded, masking his rage well. “I’ve come to call a truce.”

  Ivan wiped the corner of his mouth like they were in some fine-dining establishment. “A truce?”

  “This has all gotten out of hand, wouldn’t you agree?” Leon asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then let’s put a stop to it.” Leon kept his voice controlled and amenable. Just a few people discussing business and trying to come to a mutual agreement. Only, the lives of countless agents, their families, and Unit allies and affiliates didn’t hang in the balance of most business meetings. This was one deal they needed to secure, and fast.

  Ivan sat back in his chair, and Maggie could just see him in a sleek suit instead of the standard-issue jumpsuit he wore. He was comfortable in these situations, no stranger to blackmail or negotiations over human lives. “I believe you already know what will stop London Bridge from falling down.”

  “I ca
n’t arrange for your release,” Leon said, his tone reasonable. “You should have known that was never going to happen before you started any of this.”

  Maggie remained quiet, not trusting herself. Ivan was lucky she hadn’t dragged him across the table already and choked him into submission. Leon had the cooler head, and she let him do his job as Unit chief.

  “Stranger things have happened,” Ivan mused, brushing crumbs from his jumpsuit. “Don’t try to tell me your government hasn’t made arrangements like that before.”

  “Perhaps, but those instances could be kept under the radar. You, Ivan, have made that impossible, thanks to the news coverage your arrest garnered. We let you out, and there’ll be a public outcry. People will want answers as to why the government let out a convicted sex trafficker. We can’t very well tell them the truth.”

  Ivan laughed. “Why bother with the truth at all? Your country runs on lies.”

  Leon sat back, emulating Dalca’s body language. “Look, I don’t make the rules. I’m just here to facilitate a deal with you.”

  “There is nothing you can offer me other than my release that will put a stop to your predicament. My men are under strict orders to carry out my plans to the letter.”

  Maggie couldn’t hold back any longer.

  “Was it a part of your plan for Grigore to lose all of your new girls? They’re with Interpol now, and Grigore seems to have done a runner,” she said, throwing in the lie to test how much Ivan knew. If he knew she wasn’t telling the truth, then someone was communicating with him. Either that, or he was still in the dark.

  “Thanks to you, I have no way of fact-checking what you say without access to my lawyer, so I’m afraid I must conclude everything you say is bullshit until I am told otherwise from a source I trust.”

  Maggie suppressed a guffaw. There was no way Ivan was getting any kind of communication with the outside. No phone calls, and definitely no meetings with anyone from his camp. Even inside the prison walls, he still thought he had them over a barrel. It wasn’t too far from the truth, but they didn’t need to confirm it for him.