The Assassin

by Tricia Andersen

  Sloan looked down, locking eyes with his wife. She took his breath away. Her brown locks were pinned up on top of her head and cascading down around her shoulders in curls. Her body was wrapped in a silver evening gown that fell to a matching pair of silver stilettos and hugged her curves just the way he liked.

  She held his gaze for a moment before offering a hand to Angelique. “My name is Abbey O’Riley.”

  “O’Riley?” Angelique questioned.

  “Yes, O’Riley. And you can tell by my accent that I’m American, so needless to say, we’re not blood relatives. So please take your hands off my husband.”

  “Husband?” Angelique screeched.

  “Yes, darling. Husband. As in the father of my children. Three of them.”

  Sloan watched Abbey as she glanced up at those gathering. Sloan followed her gaze to find the other women he had slept with surrounding them.

  A smug, satisfied grin spread across his wife’s lips. “Actually, I need to thank you, Angelique. And the rest of you. Had you not treated Sloan like a toy you could play with then throw away, he never would have learned to despise women. He never would have come to New York and met me, and we never would have fallen in love and had our family. He’d still be here in Prague. So, thank you, Angelique. Thank you for being the selfish, gold-digging monster that you are and sending me the love of my life.”

  “Monster?” Angelique protested.

  “Well, I can think of other names to call you. But I’m a mommy, and we don’t say such things.”

  Angelique looked up to Sloan with a pleading expression. “Sloan, my love. Tell this thing to go away and leave us alone.”

  “I can’t. She’s telling the truth. This is my wife, Abbey. I fell madly in love with her when I met her in New York.” And I’m still madly in love with her. And prouder than I could ever say. Here she is defending me against my past. And eloquently too. There’s no lass in the world like her and she’s mine.

  Angelique’s sweet expression of adoration melted away as she slipped her hands from his arm. She shot Abbey one last look of disgust before stomping away with the other women. Sloan did notice each of them eyeing him intently. Not the scrawny lad you used to know, am I?

  Abbey sashayed to him with a big grin. “I don’t think your old girlfriend likes me much.”

  “Impressive, luv,” Sloan complimented. “But I was supposed to get the key to the lockbox from her.”

  “You mean this key?” Abbey held up the key on a plain, rusty chain that she had clenched in her fist.

  Sloan took it from her and studied it. “Abigail, how…?”

  “I slipped it from her little handbag while she was pawing you.”

  “You are brilliant, luv.”

  Abbey wrapped her arm around his. “How about a drink before we go?”

  “An excellent idea.” Sloan escorted her to the bar and ordered a whiskey and a glass of wine. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the room burning him. The whole place had witnessed Abbey’s scene. He chuckled as he took a sip. He didn’t care. He stood by what he had stated before. His woman was simply brilliant.

  The others met up with them at the bar, chatting and laughing together. Once they finished, they made their way from the ballroom to the van waiting for them outside. Sloan helped Abbey into the vehicle before following her. Inside, each member of the team changed into dark clothing as they moved to their next destination.

  Thin slivers of moonlight cut across the marble floor of the bank. Four dark shadows briefly slit the beams as they prowled through the building.

  “Do you know where you’re going?” a voice through each earpiece questioned.

  “Yes, Gordon,” Sloan answered, as he concentrated his focus in front of him. “Twenty paces ahead is the gate to the vault.”

  “Logan, adjust your camera. I can’t see anything,” Gordon demanded.

  “You’d see more here than in Minneapolis,” Logan returned.

  Gordon ignored him. “Abbey, are you in place?”

  “Yes, sir,” she answered.

  “Luv, can you even see the lock?” Sloan queried.

  “It’s in my scope. No worries. Give me the signal, and I’ll blow it open.”

  “Go ahead.”

  The muffled shot was followed by a soft whistle. Metal ripping apart echoed through the silent space. Sloan motioned to Robert, Bartholomew, and Logan to follow him as they rushed through the now-open gate. “Abbey, meet us outside,” he ordered.

  “Will do,” Abbey agreed. “It might take me that long to get out of these rafters.”

  “Be careful.”

  “I will.”

  “Sloan, the alarm is disabled for two more minutes. Get that stick and get out,” Gordon demanded.

  “Yes, sir.” Sloan shuffled into the vault, with the others following. He glanced at his partners then nodded toward the gate. “Cover me.”

  “Sure thing,” Robert answered. The three men stood sentry as Sloan ventured deeper.

  Searching each of the brass tags on the boxes, he stopped and smiled. “Number seventy-three,” Sloan crooned softly to himself. He stepped back then dug in his pocket. Pulling free the key that Abbey had lifted off Angelique, he slipped it into the lock and turned it clockwise. He tore open the door, analyzing the contents. Reaching in, he grasped the USB stick then spun on his heel. “I have the stick. Everyone out.”

  “I’m covering the door. There’s a patrol officer outside,” Logan reported.

  Sloan could hear Robert curse over the earpiece followed by the sound of a chamber of a rifle opening. “Abbey, what are you doing?”

  “I don’t kill, Sloan.”

  “I know that. What are you doing?” Sloan demanded.

  He heard the chamber lock again then another muffled shot. “Sleep tight, sweet prince. Coast is clear. Let’s go.”

  “Sloan, you have fifteen seconds. Move,” Gordon warned. “Fourteen…thirteen…”

  The four men ran across the bank lobby for the exit as Gordon kept counting down. They found it slightly propped open with Abbey’s body. She pried it apart farther as they passed through. Sloan grasped her hand and tugged her with him, slamming the door shut.

  Gordon’s voice softly spoke through their earpieces. “One. Good job all. Get to the airport and come home.”

  “Aye, sir. We’ll see you in the morning,” Sloan confirmed. He tugged Abbey close to him as the team weaved their way through the dark streets of Prague to their waiting SUV. Robert hopped into the driver’s seat as the rest climbed in. Abbey twisted herself to set her sniper rifle gently in the third row then snuggled against Sloan.

  “What did you shoot that guy with, Abbey?” Logan quizzed.

  “Something Agent Dunham gave me for our last mission. Some kind of tranquilizer bullet. I just had to hit skin, and it would put him to sleep. So I shot his foot. It’ll hurt, but he’ll be fine.”

  Sloan watched Bartholomew anxiously check the cell phone he had stowed in the glove compartment before their mission. “How’s my sister?” he asked.

  Bartholomew glanced back at him from the passenger’s seat. “All right. She’s craving cookie dough ice cream and the baby is kicking up a storm, but she’s good. We have a couple months to go, you know. It’s all we’ve talked about since we found out we’re going to be parents.”

  Sloan smiled at his brother-in-law even though guilt ripped at his gut. He understood how Bartholomew had been feeling. It was hell for Sloan to leave Abbey any time she was pregnant. The thought of taking Bartholomew away from Maggie and his future niece or nephew tore at him. He would talk to Gordon when they returned to the United States. For the next few months, Bartholomew should be grounded from any mission. Fatherhood needed to be his first priority.

  The trip to the airport was silent. Sloan stared out the window as he tucked Abbey close to his body. He hated having her on these missions. Even though she was normally positioned away from the danger, all it took was a counter-sniper to attack.
He grimaced at the thought. Turning, he found his wife’s hazel eyes gazing up at him. Sloan pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

  Robert pulled the SUV next to the airport hangar, just yards from the cargo plane waiting for them. Quickly, they unloaded and rushed to the aircraft, boarding it then looking for a place to rest. Robert, Bartholomew, and Logan struggled to get comfortable on the benches bolted to the wall of the plane so they could sleep. Abbey nestled into a pile of tarps on the floor. Sloan huffed for a moment. The last thing he needed was to be teased for any additional display of affection. He didn’t need to be told to “get a room”. But his wee wife was lying there curled up on the canvas, her body just begging for his to mold against her curves, to hold her close.

  “Dear Lord, Sloan.” Robert shook his head exasperated. “Just go lie down with your wife. Stop standing there like an idiot so the plane can take off, and we can go home.”

  Sloan cocked a grin at Robert then kneeled down. He scooped Abbey into his arms then settled into the tarps with her. He heard her softly sigh as he drifted off.

  The sun was just breaking as the cargo plane skidded to a halt in front of the Sloan Enterprise hangars at the Minneapolis/St. Paul International Airport. Sloan gently nudged Abbey awake then helped her to her feet. The entire team tiredly made their way off the aircraft to find Gordon leaning against the Hummer. His usual proud smile for when they arrived home was gone. In fact, he looked irritated.

  “What is it, Dad?” Abbey pried.

  Gordon threw a thumb over his shoulder. “Sloan, Agent Dunham is waiting for you. Take the bloody USB stick to him please.”

  Sloan looked at him, confused, but obeyed the order. He stalked toward the hangar and stepped inside. Agent Dunham sat at the table meant for the crew of the corporation’s two luxury jets. Sloan slapped the USB stick down in front of the agent. “There. Mission accomplished. Now, I’m going home to tuck my wife and myself into bed.”

  “Fine. But don’t get too comfy. You did remarkably well with this mission, but as I told you, it was a trial run for another mission.”

  “Your bigger and better things can wait. These aren’t hard-core soldiers you’re sending on these missions. Not anymore. They’re husbands. Fathers. And my wee lass is the mother of my children. I resent that you have no issue putting them in harm’s way.”

  “I’m not putting them in harm’s way. I only want you and one other. I need you both for a mission to find a traitor within our Armed Services selling weapons to the enemy. You are the best man the CIA has for this job to weed them out and bring them to light. I’m sending you to the Middle East, specifically Afghanistan.”

  Chapter Two

  “You want to send me where?” Sloan roared, his voice thundering through the hangar.

  “I thought the destination was clear,” Agent Dunham countered. “And not just you. You’ll need an associate to assist you. Specifically Abbey.”

  “Absolutely not. I will not take my wife into someplace where she will definitely be unwelcome. The restrictions are mind boggling. Send me if you must. I will not take her. Non-negotiable.”

  Agent Dunham cocked an eyebrow at Sloan. “She’ll be fine. She’ll be on an army base. You need an expert with a rifle. Do you have any other person in mind?”

  “It won’t be Abbey.”

  Agent Dunham opened the manila file sitting on the table and shuffled through the papers. He paused as he stared at the sheet inside. “Bartholomew Evans.”

  Sloan shook his head. “He’s expecting a baby with my sister in a couple months. No. Not him.”

  Agent Dunham glared at him. “Make a choice. Abbey or Bartholomew.”

  Sloan growled at the ultimatum. Bartholomew was more than an employee. He was more than a friend. He was a brother. But could Sloan risk the life of the woman he loved? It was definitely an unfair choice. Finally, he spoke. “Bartholomew.”

  Agent Dunham shut the folder with a grin. “Fantastic. Inform him he’s going. I’ll have the dishonorable discharge wiped from his record and have him reinstated. Have a good time in Afghanistan.”

  Before Agent Dunham could rise, Sloan spun on his heel and stormed off. He didn’t stop until he slipped into the Hummer beside Abbey. He held her close as Gordon weaved through the streets of Minneapolis. He looked down as she nestled her head against his shoulder.

  She laced her fingers in his. “What did Agent Dunham want?”

  “We’ll talk when we get home.”

  Sloan stared out the window as Gordon weaved the vehicle along the Minneapolis interstate system. He hated himself for putting the father of his future niece or nephew on the line. But if he lost Abbey, his world would come to an end. He reached up to the passenger seat and caught Bartholomew’s shoulder as Gordon pulled to a stop in front of Bartholomew and Maggie’s condo. “I need to talk to you and Maggie.”

  “All right,” Bartholomew answered uneasily.

  The two men ascended the stairs together silently. Sloan glanced over at Bartholomew, sensing the tension. If you only knew, lad.

  Maggie threw open the door before Bartholomew could reach the knob. She wrapped her arms tight around him. “Sweetheart, you’re home.”

  He kissed her as he rested his hands on her rounded stomach. “How was our little guy?”

  “Kicked me endlessly. But we’re both great.” Maggie glanced at Sloan. “And how are you, dear brother?”

  “We all need to talk,” Sloan informed solemnly.

  Maggie’s smile fell as she pulled free of Bartholomew and led them inside.

  Sloan shut the door behind him then followed the couple to the living room. Sitting beside his sister on the couch, he fought to keep the fury from his brogue. “I’m being sent to Afghanistan in a couple days. All these missions have been tests for this one.” He looked up at Bartholomew. “B, they want you to go with me.”

  “Afghanistan?” Maggie near screeched.

  Bartholomew put a comforting hand on Maggie’s shoulder. “Why me?”

  “They want an expert with a rifle. I know there’s a member on our team with more accuracy than you, but…” Sloan’s voice trailed off as his head lowered.

  “No, Abbey shouldn’t go,” Bartholomew confirmed.

  “That leaves you. We’re being sent into an Army encampment to find who is selling weapons to the enemy.”

  “You’ll be in the middle of a war,” Maggie breathed.

  “How long will we be there?” Bartholomew questioned, his voice betraying his panic. “Maggie is due in a couple months.”

  “I know. We’ll work fast. The CIA is reinstating you into the Army. They’re throwing out your dishonorable discharge.”

  “I couldn’t care less. I won’t be reenlisting. Just let me know when we’re leaving.”

  “I will. Talk to you soon.” Sloan shook Bartholomew’s hand then pulled Maggie into his embrace. He pressed a kiss to her temple then stood. He nodded to both of them then left the condo.

  He slumped against the hallway wall. He knew he had dropped quite the shock on the young couple. He should have stayed, should have talked more about it. But he had his own family to spend the remaining time with before they left for the Middle East.

  The rest of the ride to the O’Riley home was silent. As Gordon drove down the street, Sloan noticed Gordon’s truck in the driveway. “Where are Mom and the children?” Sloan questioned.

  “Inside,” Gordon informed him. “They’re all excited to see you.”

  “You really didn’t have to drive us, Dad,” Abbey objected.

  Sloan didn’t miss the affectionate wink Gordon sent Abbey through the rearview mirror. “It’s my pleasure, sweetheart. It reminds me of old times, seeing you both cuddled in the backseat.”

  Abbey laughed as she snuggled closer to Sloan.

  As the Hummer pulled to a stop in the driveway, Sloan stepped out then turned to help his wife. He wrapped his hand tight around hers as they followed Gordon into the house. The door was barely open w
hen the squeal filled the room. “Daddy! Mommy!”

  Sloan let go of Abbey in time to catch seven-year-old Ame. Three-year-old Ethan was quick on her heels, running as fast as his little legs would carry him, until his arms were wrapped tight around Abbey’s leg. She bent down and scooped him up, laughing as he peppered her face with butterfly kisses.

  Mary carefully stood, cradling infant Colin. “It’s good to see you’re both home.”

  “Thanks, Mom. It’s good to be home.” Abbey sat down on the couch, settling Ethan beside her. She took the infant from Mary, hugging Colin to her. She looked up at Sloan. “So, what did Agent Dunham want from you?”

  Sloan set Ame down then rested in his favorite overstuffed chair. “He’s sending Bartholomew and me to Afghanistan in a couple of days. All of our missions up to this point have been a test for this.”

  Abbey shook her head. “What are you going to do in Afghanistan?”

  “Look for someone selling weapons to the enemy.”

  “But there’s a war going on.”

  “Well aware, Abbey.”

  “And Maggie is going to give birth soon. Bartholomew should be here with his wife.”

  Sloan looked deep into her hazel eyes. “Agent Dunham wanted you to go.”

  Abbey stared at him for several moments. “Then call him. Tell him I will.”

  “Non-negotiable. You’re staying here.”

  Abbey clutched the baby to her as she looked away.

  Gordon cleared his throat as he laid a hand on Sloan’s shoulder. “Mary and I will grab some lunch and bring it back. You two just stay and enjoy your children.” He took Mary’s hand and left, leaving the couple in silence.

  Sloan watched Abbey as she stared into the distance. He could see the tears cutting trails down her cheeks. He moved to the sofa beside her, enveloping her and Colin in his arms. “Abbey, everything will be fine.”

  “That’s what you say. You said the same thing before you left for Belfast. You were arrested and nearly thrown in prison for life,” she whispered.

  “That was different.”

  “How? You’re going someplace dangerous, where you’ll be enemy number one.”