“Here, Grace. Take my jacket,” Ashton said, wrapping his coat around Helmsley’s shoulders.
“Thank you,” said the Director General, pulling it close and admiring the beautiful fabric with appreciative appraisal.
Maggie stared in bewilderment at the jovial exchange, but she didn’t have time to marvel at the spectacle. There was still the Romanians to deal with, and Maggie wanted to personally make sure everything went to plan until the very end.
The police officers poured out of their cars with guns pointed and German shepherds barking as they circled the stranded traffickers.
It hadn’t been easy to orchestrate, but with the help of Leon and more than a few heated phone calls with the prime minister’s staff, they had managed to wrangle the Unit members once again to aid them, along with a fleet of Scotland Yard’s finest who now surrounded Dalca and his men.
“What have you done, you bitch?” Ivan cried, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut as Maggie reached their side of the field.
Dalca’s men followed suit and got out of the cars, followed by Grigore, whose face had adopted a greenish hue. Seeing your fellow syndicate members turned into swiss cheese will do that to a man. The dead Romanians were splayed between both sides of the fight like a macabre football team that would never kick a ball again.
“I would’ve thought a man as smart as you seem to think you are would have figured it out by now,” Maggie replied, taking great pleasure in mirroring the man’s words back at him.
Grigore may have invited a few more friends than they’d agreed to, but so had Maggie. She never trusted the syndicate for one moment to fight fair, so she made sure to play them at their own game. Sometimes to take down the bad guys, you had to think like them, and thankfully, it had paid off.
“Did you really think I was going to let you go?” she asked as Dalca’s men were shoved against the cars face-first and handcuffed.
Some of the officers were being extra diligent in their duties and indulging in their right to issue force when their suspects resisted. The batons and pepper spray were a bit much, but Maggie wasn’t about to tell the officers off over it. The Romanians had come for a fight, and they were getting one. Grigore tried to punch the officer cuffing him and won a vicious bite to the leg from one of the German shepherds prowling through the mob for signs of trouble.
Dalca screamed in frustration as his entire operation burned to ash before him. He lunged for Maggie but was held back by the officer restraining him.
“This isn’t over,” he promised, pushing and shoving at the officer so hard, another had to come and help restrain Dalca.
“Yes, it is, Ivan. You played with fire and now you’ve got to face the consequences.” Maggie leaned toward him and reflected the smirk he liked to wear back at him. “I told you I would bring you down that first day in Belmarsh. You should have listened then and called it all off. Now you and your followers will never see the light of day again.”
Maggie turned to leave, but Ivan spat out at her. “The list,” he said. “You think that was the only copy made?”
Maggie glanced over her shoulder at him, like he was an afterthought. “It doesn’t make much difference now. With you and all your men going down, there’ll be no one to leak the list even if you did make copies.”
The rage inside Ivan’s eyes told Maggie all she needed to know. There were no copies. Sure, it would take the Unit a considerable amount of time, money, and effort to ensure there weren’t any loose ends remaining of Ivan’s plans. The cleanup jobs over the names that had already leaked to the criminal underworld were just one example of the many messes Maggie was glad she wasn’t in charge of overseeing. She’d leave that to Grace and Leon.
“Goodbye, Ivan,” Maggie said, and walked away. She’d spent enough of her time on him and refused to give him any more of it.
Leon walked her way from across the field, battered, bruised, and all hers.
She couldn’t wait to get home, take a shower, and lie in bed with him all day. They had so much time to make up for, and Maggie intended to make every second they had together count now that they’d accepted they needed each other.
It had been a long time coming, but if she’d learned anything in life, it was that some things were worth waiting for. With the Unit no longer an issue for them, and everything now out in the open, they had the rest of their lives to spend with each other. Maggie couldn’t wait for what the future held in store for them.
Leon’s face dropped as he approached her and stared over her shoulder. “Maggie, look out!”
Maggie spun on her heels and pulled out her Glock. Behind her, Dalca had fought free from the officers dealing with him and yanked a gun from one of their holsters.
He aimed it at Maggie and fired.
Maggie fired too, releasing three bullets in quick succession.
Dalca fell to his knees, blood oozing from the gunshot wound between his eyes and the two in his chest. His mouth gaped open, and he fell forward flat on his face as he released his final breath.
Maggie lowered her gun, her ears ringing.
Leon called out to her, but he sounded far away. Off in the distance.
Her stomach surged with pain, and she peered down to inspect the cause of the acidic agony that coursed through her body, wondering how many stitches she’d need redoing.
The sight of her bloodied T-shirt confused her, and her hands grew warm and slick as Maggie pressed a palm against the hole that had appeared there from nowhere.
“Maggie,” Leon’s voice called again, closer this time, but still so far away.
Her mind spun as she watched officers run toward her.
They tilted at an angle, and suddenly they were upside down, running on the grass like it was a ceiling and somehow managing not to fall into the sky.
“Maggie!”
A hand cupped the back of her head, and a voice called out to her.
Somehow, she’d ended up lying down on the grass.
The stars above watched her and twinkled in the night as a familiar face came into view.
“Leon,” she said, her voice wrong and slurred to her swimming ears.
“Maggie, stay with me.”
She wanted to laugh, but it stuck in her throat. Where was she going to go? Had he forgotten? They were together now. She wasn’t going to leave him.
“Maggie, can you hear me?” he asked, his features blurring. “Help is on the way, just please stay with me. Hold on.”
Maggie wanted to reply, but she was suddenly so tired. Her eyelids felt heavy, and the stars blurred into one large light.
The light grew and grew, getting brighter and brighter, until everything went black.
Chapter 35
20 July
* * *
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Did you see that?”
“What?”
“Her hand twitched.”
“I think she’s waking up.”
“I’ll get the doctor.”
“Her eyes are moving. Maggie, can you hear me?”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Maggie groaned and stirred where she lay. On something soft. Not comfortable, though. She was too sore to be comfortable.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“Turn that alarm off,” she grumbled. “It’s too early.”
“It’s five in the afternoon,” replied a deep voice.
“Aye, and you’ve been asleep for two days.”
She covered her face with an arm, the light too bright against her eyelids. “Just a few more minutes.”
“Ah, you’re awake,” said a new voice.
Maggie pried open one eye at the unfamiliar addition. She may not have recognized it at first, but the face filled in the blanks. “Dr. Rajinder. I wish I could say it was great to see you.”
“I get that a lot,” the doctor said with the same easy smile she always had. She studied the machines Maggie discovered she was hooked up to. “Everything’s looking good
, as far as these things go. I expect you’ll make a full recovery, though you will need to be patient with the healing time. No action out in the field for a while, I’m afraid.”
Maggie had seen enough action to last a lifetime. Dr. Rajinder’s presence at least answered the question of where Maggie was. The Unit had their own team of doctors, and Rajinder had been tasked with caring for all of them at one point or another in her tenure.
Given the nature of the injuries, the Unit used a private clinic that was as good at being discreet as they were at patching up bullet wounds. Thankfully.
“Don’t worry, Doc,” Leon said, sitting by her bedside. “I’ll make sure she follows your orders to the letter.”
“Nothing a few good whiskies can’t fix,” Ashton assured at her other side, with all the confidence of someone with a PhD.
“Not for a while, Mr. Price,” Dr. Rajinder chided with an amused beam. “She doesn’t need your bad influence right now.”
“I’ll be on my best behavior,” he replied, shooting Maggie a conspiratorial wink.
“Good,” Rajinder said. “Maggie, I’ll swing by to check on you later, and give the boys time to bring you up to speed.”
“Thank you, Sabina,” Maggie said, her throat aching from lack of use and a nagging thirst.
Leon held a glass to her chapped lips before she even had time to think of asking. He tipped the glass for her to drink her fill.
“You had us all worried,” he said, returning the glass to the bedside table and taking her hand. Bags hung under his bloodshot eyes, the wrinkled shirt and length of his beard telling her he hadn’t left her side.
“What happened? Other than the obvious,” she said, nodding toward her stomach, which would now have two extra scars. Her body was beginning to resemble a patchwork quilt, having had more stitches than one.
Leon kissed her hand before he started. “Ivan shot you.”
“Prick,” Ashton muttered.
“But not before you managed to return the favor.”
“Legend,” Ashton chimed in.
“He’s dead.”
Ashton cheered like his beloved Glasgow Rangers had just scored a goal.
Leon rolled his eyes with long-suffering patience.
“Sorry,” Ashton said, holding up his hands. “I’ll leave you two be for a while. I’ve got to check on Tamira.”
“Is she okay?” Maggie inquired, instantly feeling dumb for asking. How could she be? At least they’d managed to save her from it all.
“She will be,” Ashton said, leaning down to kiss Maggie’s forehead. “Immigration was sniffing around and talking about sending her back to Istanbul, or worse, Iran. To no one’s surprise, she didn’t fancy it, so I made sure she disappeared. She’s in the cafeteria now getting something to eat.”
Maggie concealed a smile. She’d teased him about it after everything with Bishop had ended, but Ashton really was playing for the right side these days. If she didn’t know any better, she would have gone as far as to say he was quite enjoying it, too. Not that she’d ever say that to him. He’d drive straight into one of his “fixing” jobs and scam some drug lord just to prove a point.
“Where will she go?” Maggie asked instead. The needle in her hand feeding her fluids and what she hoped was a strong painkiller itched like crazy.
Ashton shrugged on his jacket. “She’s going to stay with me for a while until she gets on her feet.”
Despite seeing her in the videos, Tamira amounted to a complete stranger, and a damaged one at that. Though none of the said damage was her fault, she would need some intense therapy to get over everything that had happened to her, and even then, it might not be enough. Some temporary ordeals left permanent scars, and this wasn’t a case of letting a friend crash at his house for a few days. Ashton was taking on a big responsibility, which was about as foreign to him as Tamira would be to his antics and playboy lifestyle.
“That’s incredibly generous of you,” Maggie said, meaning it, though she suspected his reasons, whatever they may be, extended beyond kindheartedness.
Ashton’s cheeks grew red, and he rubbed the back of his neck. He’d never been good at taking a compliment unless it was on his hair or outfit. Any hint that his soft interior was on display was quickly brushed over and covered with a witty joke or scandalous comment.
“Whatever,” her best friend said, inching for the door before things got too real. “Right, I’ll see you later. Glad you’re not dead and all that.”
“Thanks,” Maggie said, instantly regretting laughing. She’d been shot before, and even the slightest sudden movement made it feel like the bullet was still trapped inside.
“I thought I’d lost you,” Leon said once he’d left, sobering her mood.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” Maggie assured him, her heart swelling in her chest. She’d never loved anyone the way she loved Leon, and his display of emotion made her feel more wanted than she ever had.
“I don’t know what I would have done if anything—”
“Well, it didn’t,” she interrupted, not wanting to see him sad anymore. Not when they had so much to be thankful for. “So, you don’t need to think on it. I’ll survive, though you might need to be my nurse for a while.”
Leon brightened and gave her that carnal look like he wanted to devour her there and then, even in her hospital gown with a mop of unwashed hair. “Only if that includes giving you sponge baths.”
Maggie pretended to consider it. “I’ll allow it.”
“It feels different this time, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” Maggie said, her eyes welling up. “You’re still sure about us being together?”
Leon leaned his forehead gently against hers, so close she could smell the spearmint from the gum he’d been chewing at some point. Her heart fluttered under his intense gaze, eyes so close she could see into his soul. He brushed his lips across hers, then whispered, “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.”
Maggie pulled him closer and kissed him with everything she had, ignoring the aches the movement caused. None of that mattered. Being so close to dying, she wanted to feel alive. To taste him and show him just how much he meant to her. She put everything she wanted to say to him behind the kiss. Her love. Her trust. Her devotion.
Her hopes and dreams for their future together. A future she never thought possible, and one she would fight for to ensure it came to pass.
Someone cleared their throat, announcing they were no longer alone.
Maggie reluctantly let her lover go, and he straightened once he saw who was paying a visit.
“Ma’am,” Leon said, getting up and offering Grace his chair.
“I’d like a word,” she said to Maggie, then turned to Leon. “Alone, if you don’t mind.”
“I won’t be far,” Leon assured her, kissing her one last time before leaving the women alone.
“He’s smitten,” Grace commented as she watched him leave, seeming displeased with the fact. “I hope this rekindled romance doesn’t impact his work. As you can imagine, we’re rather busy at the moment.”
“I bet,” Maggie said, wincing as she pulled herself into a sitting position, the built-in respect for her superiors having not entirely left her yet.
Grace had recovered well. Other than a few hints of darkened spots under her makeup, she was back to her old self. Her severe bob cut with not a hair out of place. An immaculate royal-blue power suit. She removed her outer jacket and, like always, got straight to the point.
“I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for my agents and me. You did what I couldn’t, and because of you, my people can sleep easy knowing they and their families are no longer under threat. As can I.”
“It was a team effort,” Maggie replied. “We each had a role to play in taking Ivan down.”
She could never have done it alone. Without Leon, Ashton, Tamira—heck, even Grace herself—Maggie would have failed, and all of them would have su
ffered the consequences.
“I’m glad he didn’t take you down with him,” Grace said, in a moment of candor Maggie didn’t expect.
“Me, too,” she replied, unable to think of anything else to say.
Grace cleared her throat again and looked around the room. Someone had gotten Maggie flowers, and they sat on the television in the corner by the window to soak in the summer sun, which had decided to show its face.
Maggie grinned. The Director General had never been good at small talk. “Spit it out, Grace. What is it?”
True to form, she did. “How would you feel about returning to the fold?”
Maggie frowned. “Why? Do you miss me?”
“You were one of my best assets,” Grace said with a glare, never one to dish out compliments when a reprimand was available. “I’d be a fool not to try to recruit you back.”
“The agent in me is flattered to hear that from someone like you,” Maggie responded, uncomfortable at the swell of pride Grace’s words stirred within her. Her old boss’s opinion of her shouldn’t matter to her anymore.
Grace shrugged. “Facts are facts.”
Maggie waited before she spoke, looking for the right words.
“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted, but too much has happened. I’m not the same person I was before. After everything that’s happened, I want a new start. I need a new start.”
Helmsley nodded in understanding, like she’d expected that answer but thought she would try anyway. “If I can’t have you back, at least promise me you won’t talk Leon into following suit. I can’t lose both my best agents in one year. Thanks to Ivan Dalca, I have a severe shortage of staff, and I can’t simply ring up a recruitment office for replacements.”
“I don’t think you need to worry about Leon going anywhere,” Maggie said. While she had turned her back on the agent life, she didn’t expect Leon to do the same, nor would she ever try to change his mind. He still believed in the good the Unit could do, and she knew he needed to believe that now more than ever.
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