Dangerous in Action (Aegis Group Alpha Team, #2)

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Dangerous in Action (Aegis Group Alpha Team, #2) Page 7

by Sidney Bristol


  A bit of movement and a flash of white drew her attention.

  Tanya straightened and aimed through the wrought iron gates that’d been thrown open at some point. She fired, the sound shattering the momentary calm.

  “Damn it, Tanya.”

  Isaac wrapped his arm around her waist and hauled her into the van as it screeched to a stop.

  “Cops are almost here,” Kyle said.

  “There.” Shane stomped on the accelerator.

  The back doors swung, banging open.

  Shane turned the van and the vehicle lurched.

  Two men jumped through the open doors.

  “Go,” Felix yelled.

  The other man pulled the doors open and ducked his head.

  Isaac slid to the ground, taking her with him, and cradled her to his chest. He pulled the gun from her hands and set it on the ground away from her.

  Everything made sense in a firing exercise. There was a bad guy and a good guy. One side lost, one won. She didn’t have to second guess herself or wonder if she was making the right call, because the good guys were the ones getting away.

  “Where the hell did you learn to shoot like that?” Felix braced his back against the other side of the van and slid to the ground across from them.

  No one followed up his question with another. They hardly even spoke.

  Had she just betrayed herself?

  Friday. London, United Kingdom.

  Isaac didn’t want to turn his back on Tanya, for fear she’d ninja out of the room somehow. He’d only ever seen one person move like she had, and no part of him wanted to make that connection. Given everything she’d told him, though, he was beginning to believe her unlikely story.

  Tanya’s chest rose and fell. Her lashes didn’t move. She was passed out something hard. They’d barely made it through the door of her room at the hotel before she’d flopped on the bed and it was lights out. He’d had to help her with her boots.

  It could all be an act.

  In truth, he didn’t know who—or what—Tanya was anymore. She sure as hell wasn’t the delicate woman he’d pegged her as in the beginning. If he knew a terror plot was in motion. He’d probably be heaving right along with her, trying to figure out how to stop it.

  He closed the door behind him and turned down the hall. There hadn’t been an opportunity to tell the others what she’d shared with him, and on the road packed in the van wasn’t the time or place.

  They’d secured a large suite at the Bulgari Hotel. The head of security was former military, by the look of how things were run, and considering their caliber of guests and permanent residents, there would be no circumventing to get to them. Topnotch security was worth it at this point.

  Isaac pushed his shoulders back and stepped into the main area of the suite.

  The others had assembled around the dining table. No one spoke. They were all worse for wear after the drive from Boston to London, with only a quick stop to change vehicles, stow gear and change into civilian clothes. Tactical greens would draw too much attention.

  Kyle cleared his throat and pinned Isaac with a look. They’d traded a few words while Tanya was out of hearing distance.

  “She’s asleep,” Isaac said.

  “Who the hell is she?” Felix leaned forward, jabbing a finger at the table.

  “Has she said anything to you?” Kyle asked.

  “A lot, actually. Most of it just before the attack.” Isaac shoved his hand through his hair. “She confirmed our theory. Orlando is no longer an ally. He’s working with terrorists, trying to sell some sort of chem-weapon. Tanya thinks he wants revenge for the death of his sister.”

  “There’s no way we can trust her. She’s this guys’ girlfriend.” Felix shook his head.

  “I’m not so sure about that.” Isaac pressed his lips together, wishing he didn’t have to say these words. “I’m just going to put it out there so we’re all on the same page—Tanya is not just a pretty face. Can we all agree on that?”

  “Shit.” Shane shook his head. “Did you see that shot she took?”

  “Which one?” Kyle countered.

  “She moves like Abigail,” Shane said, voicing the thing Isaac didn’t want to admit.

  They descended into silence.

  Abigail was, technically speaking, the vice president of Aegis Group Operations. As far as anyone knew, she was an American-born woman, with some Department of Defense contract work under her belt. In truth, Abigail hadn’t come into being more than a few years ago. Before that she was a deadly Mossad spy, trained as a very young woman to kill and steal secrets before she’d been betrayed and set on a path that intersected with one of their own. Luke and Abigail were planning a spring wedding. Everyone would be there, because they’d all been called on to assist with the search efforts, in hopes of finding her, following the near disaster in D.C.

  “What are we thinking?” Kyle glanced around the table. “If she’s trained by the same people who trained Abigail...”

  “That’s a big if,” Isaac said. “Before The Patrol hit us, she’d asked me to dial a number. She was leaving a voicemail for an Agent Jones when we mobilized.”

  “And you let her?” Felix gaped at him.

  “Okay, trace the number. Find out who it belongs to. And get someone back home on the phone.” Kyle stared at Isaac. “We are going to need Abigail’s input on this, and probably Luke’s. We have to find out the truth about our girl, how deep this goes, and figure out what our next move is.”

  “If this guy has turned on us, then chances are, the government will be interested in her. We could always turn her over to the CIA or someone here.” Felix held up his hands. “It’s not the popular opinion, but someone has to say it.”

  “You did, now shut up.” Isaac glared across the table.

  He’d held Tanya when she’d cried, felt her body shake in fear and saw the moment she flipped the switch and slid back into her real self. That woman who kicked ass out there was who Orlando was scared of. If she was a trained operative, at her age, that would be remarkable and incredibly difficult. There were people, like Abigail, who were raised doing this stuff and they still fractured and broke. Whatever had set Tanya on this course with their team must be an indicator of a greater danger to come. No one would keep their mouth shut about a traitor if they weren’t angling to catch them. That wasn’t how things worked.

  “I’ll get on the phone,” Isaac said.

  He tapped his knuckles on the table, then turned toward the hall. His communications gear was stowed in the room adjoining Tanya’s. He really was going to be glued to her from here on out.

  Isaac rounded the corner and nearly walked into Tanya. She stepped back, her eyes wide, face pale.

  She’d heard most of it, hadn’t she?

  He glanced over his shoulder at Kyle and the others, their heads together.

  “Go,” he mouthed at her and ushered her ahead of him.

  Great.

  Instead of going to her room, she ducked into his and shut the door behind him. Those dark-brown eyes of hers were wary, and rightfully so.

  “Who is Abigail?” she asked.

  “Someone who works with us. Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

  “You were talking about me.”

  “What’d you expect?”

  “I could have explained myself.”

  “Would you tell the whole truth?”

  She glanced away.

  Tanya had secrets. They worried him, but that was because he couldn’t protect her from them if she wasn’t honest. He couldn’t look out for an enemy he didn’t expect.

  “I think it’s best for us to find out who you are in our own way,” he said slowly.

  “Because you don’t trust me.”

  “The situation is complicated. Who is Agent Jones?”

  “He’s CIA. One of his first assignments was something to do with a half-sister of mine. I didn’t know anything, but he gave me his card. And...I kept it.”

 
“And—you were going to say something else?”

  “I can’t say it,” she whispered.

  “He gave you his card and—he’s your boyfriend? Ex-lover? Husband? Friend?” He searched her face for any flicker of familiarity. So Jones wasn’t anyone she cared about. “Teacher? Partner? Just some guy whose number you have memorized?”

  “I thought it could come in useful to know the number for someone who...knew me, then.”

  “He’s your back up plan.” Isaac shouldn’t be relieved by that idea. “Does he know it?”

  “I can’t say any more.” She blew out a breath.

  “I’ll find out for us.”

  She nodded and turned toward the adjacent door.

  He wanted to grab her, shake some sense into her, but he needed to make the call home more. At this point he—and the others—would be stupid to take her word as gospel truth. They needed to figure out who Tanya was through channels that would verify and vet her information. It was the only way to prove they weren’t playing into Orlando’s hand.

  Isaac turned toward his gear and yanked the laptop out of his bag.

  Tanya closed the adjoining door behind her, shutting him out.

  It was two steps forward and ten back with her.

  Why did Kyle have to make her his responsibility?

  When Isaac looked at her, he understood her. She wasn’t like most assets they were sent after. Tanya was capable and strong, she’d simply been given a load too heavy for her to bear alone, and that was on whoever was supposed to be watching her. The person behind the scenes pulling her strings. Now that they’d all said it, he could admit that she was more than what she was pretended to be.

  The way he saw it, Tanya Graham was either living a lie, or her life had been molded to fit the needs of whoever had trained her. A woman didn’t move, fight or shoot like that naturally. It was something trained into them.

  What cause was Tanya fighting for? And were they too late?

  Friday. Berlin, Germany.

  Orlando picked up the phone and pressed it to his ear.

  “Well?”

  “Cops are all over the place,” the man said.

  “You were too late.” Orlando swiveled to stare out the window. “What do they know?”

  “I can’t ask yet.”

  “I want to know, so you will find out. Now.”

  “There’s no grounds for me to get involved.”

  “How would you like for me to explain that to your wife?”

  Robert made a strangled sound, but spoke no further protest.

  “I thought you would see it my way. Please, find out all you can from the site and report back to me. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Orlando hung up and tapped the phone on the arm rest of his chair.

  Robert was only useful for so long. Sending him into a crime scene without proper cause was a risk, but Orlando wanted to know what was there.

  Tanya was smarter than he’d given her credit for. She would know that if she remained with that team, Orlando could find her. All he had to do was trace the video conference signal. Granted, that would take some time. So why hadn’t she run from the rescue team when she’d had the chance? In all that chaos she should have had the opportunity.

  “What are you up to?”

  He jabbed the button on the phone.

  “Yes, sir?” Edwin said.

  “Get in here.”

  A moment later, Edwin entered carrying a tablet. He waited at the threshold until Orlando gestured to the small writing desk in the corner. This was going to take a while.

  “First, I need you to trace the video call I just had back to its source. We need to know where the Aegis Team is holding Tanya. Got it?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Then, I need you to assemble our Berlin team. We’re going to move some sensitive merchandise. Find us a cargo plane, and get me a team in D.C.” Orlando couldn’t remember if Edwin knew about the chem-weapon or not. Tanya did, but she was special.

  “Okay...”

  “Last, I need an evaluation of these two clients.” Orlando strolled over to the writing desk and scrawled the names on a sticky note.

  “Anything specific I should focus on?”

  “Which one’s the bigger fuck up? I need to know who I can double cross.”

  “I’m sorry, did you—”

  “Think very carefully about the next words out of your mouth.”

  Edwin’s throat constricted and his Adam’s apple bobbed.

  God, Orlando would give anything to have Tanya back—and loyal. He couldn’t have that, so he’d make sure she died instead.

  Friday. London, United Kingdom.

  Tanya lay in the darkness, bits of the afternoon light bleeding around the blackout curtains, and listened to the silence.

  Hardly any sound leaked from room to room. That was why she’d had to go clear to the end of the hall to find out what the others had been saying.

  She’d seen the glances, the way they looked at each other when they thought she wasn’t watching. They were good, but they weren’t that good.

  At the estate, she’d made the decision to stay with them because it made sense. Alone, she couldn’t make it. Rob wasn’t answering their line and she didn’t know what else she could do besides call Agent Jones and pray he believed her.

  She needed to tell someone what she’d pieced together, that Orlando had three potential buyers and three different targets for the weapon. She’d made lists back at the estate, reasons and tallies in favor and against each buyer. If she tried to think like Orlando, she was pretty sure she could narrow it down to two. To know more, she’d need help, but she couldn’t get off this island.

  She hated being trapped.

  As pretty as this hotel room was, it was a cage.

  She’d lived her life in various cages, some with bars and others with cushions, and she’d hated all of them. Wasn’t taking Orlando on supposed to be about throwing the prison doors open? She hugged her arms around herself tighter, drawing her knees up.

  When she’d been rescued as a teen, she’d thought it was an end to being alone, that life would be fine from there on out. She’d been naive about the real world. The truth was, the same things happened out there. She was always an outsider, alone, and an easy victim, if she didn’t stand up for herself. Which was why she’d set out to change things. She was done being the victim.

  A light tap on the door brought her out of the endless loop of dark memories.

  She lifted her head off the pillow and stared at the door, as though she could see who it was.

  The door opened a crack and a head leaned through. The light from the hall made his sandy brown hair more gold.

  “Isaac?” She rolled to her back.

  “Hey, I didn’t know if you were asleep or what.” He stepped through the door, something clutched under his arm.

  She sat but didn’t offer the fact that sleep eluded her.

  “The rest of our gear arrived. We had some clothes for you, if you want to shower and change?”

  “Thank you.” A shower would be nice. Maybe if she cleaned up a bit she’d actually sleep?

  “I talked to our team back home.”

  “About me?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing. They found nothing.”

  “What about Agent Jones?”

  “No reply. Yet.”

  Isaac edged toward the dresser, found it by feel and set the clothes on it. Her eyes were so adjusted to the darkness that she could make out his darker form against the shadows.

  “What do you want me to say?” she asked.

  “We were able to verify what you said about the missing chem.”

  “Oh.” All the air left her lungs.

  “We were able to pass off why we were wanted to know, for now, but if someone starts asking questions we don’t have answers for...”

  “You’ll have to give me up. Why haven�
�t you all ready?”

  “We were hired to bring you home safely.”

  “You’ve looked into me, so you know I have joint UK and US citizenship. In theory, I am home. Try again.” She could hear Isaac grinding his teeth.

  “I can’t tell you without putting someone else at risk.”

  “Abigail? Is that who?”

  Isaac’s silence said more than his words.

  “Abigail. It’s a Biblical name meaning my father is joy, but the woman was the wife of a king who referred to herself as a servant. Who is she to you? If I search your company’s website, is she there?”

  “No.”

  “Then you’re hiding her, too. I’m guessing you think she and I have some sort of connection. Protecting her means protecting me. What if you’re wrong about me?”

  “I’m not.” He sounded so certain of it. Isaac strolled around the bed, this time without feeling his way around. His eyes must have adjusted to the darkness.

  Tanya swallowed.

  Who was Abigail?

  “How long has it been since you were home?” Isaac sat on the bed next to her, crossing his arms under his head and toeing off his boots.

  “Please, have a seat, won’t you?” She should not encourage him. She liked him too much as it was.

  “Thanks.”

  She bit back her next words. Careless speaking around Isaac was digging herself a deeper hole. If this Abigail was like her, if they shared the same sort of training, then putting them together would only endanger them both.

  “So, home?” he prompted.

  “I’ve only ever passed through the UK.”

  “But you have dual citizenship?”

  “It’s kind of fuzzy, but the US and UK took the brunt of responsibility for us kids.”

  “People ask you about it?”

  “Not really. I mean, for most people it’s ancient history.”

  “How do you deal with it?”

  “However I can.”

  “You must have a very interesting story.”

  “It feels like a horror story.”

  “What was it like?”

  “For me?”

  “Yeah. Or in general. I’m curious about your take on things, instead of the reports.”

  “My take? My father was a narcissist who wanted everyone around him to love him. He started a new religion, built around having multiple wives, just so more people would have to pay attention to him. By the time I was born, he’d taken it to the extreme. Did you know my mother was kidnapped and forced to be—what?—wife number forty? He made us kids help control the abducted women. We were their jailers, the ones who had power over them until they were married to their new husbands.”

 

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