by Katie Reus
She glanced at the wall clock behind Jack’s head. Almost seven. With a shaking hand she dialed Ronald’s office number. After three rings, she frowned. Maybe he wasn’t even there.
When he finally answered, his voice sounded odd. “Hello?”
“Ronald, it’s me.”
There was a long pause. “What do you want?”
She frowned at his brusque tone. “We need to meet now.”
“Now? Are you in the building?” There was a note of panic in his voice.
“No, but I will be soon. I’ll be in your office in five.” She disconnected before he could argue.
“Something’s not right,” Sophie said to Jack.
He stood as he pulled the flash drive from her computer. “What do you mean?”
“He sounded . . . funny. I can’t explain it.”
Jack pulled a gun from his shoulder holster. “We’re going to do things a little differently, then.”
As he headed for the door, she placed what she hoped was a firm hand on his chest. “You won’t need a gun with Ronald.”
“Sophie, we’re doing this my way. I need to know you won’t question any decisions I make in the next twenty minutes. I can’t do my job if I’m worrying about you.”
She glared at him. “I can’t believe you think you even have to say that.”
“Well, you’ve refused one of my orders. Twice.”
She gritted her teeth. “It’s because that order is asinine. You need to let that shit go.” After everything they’d been through, she trusted Jack with her life. He might be a little intimidating, and okay, scary, when he wanted to be—she still couldn’t get over how calm he’d been when he shot those two men—but it was clear he knew what he was doing and wanted to protect her. Hell, he’d kept them alive this long.
He blinked once, as if she’d surprised him, but didn’t respond as he unlocked the door. Sophie stayed close to him as they entered the outer office area.
As they crept down the hallway toward Ronald’s office, sweat trickled down her spine. The door was closed, so Jack pressed his back against the wall and motioned to her.
“If anything happens, I’m right here.” His quiet voice was so soothing it stilled all the nerves running rampant inside her. She could do this.
Trust didn’t come easy for her—never had—but the longer she was around this man, the more she found she actually wanted to trust everything he said to her. She connected with him on a fundamental level that almost defied logic. The only other person she’d felt that way about was Sam. Her protector and lover. And Jack was only one of those at this point.
Nodding once, Sophie knocked and opened the door at the same time, hoping her fear wasn’t showing. Jack stood to the right of the door, unseen to anyone inside, but his presence made her feel better. Safer. She stepped in and gasped.
The blinds were drawn, Ronald sat in his chair behind the desk, and her assistant, Mandy, stood two feet away from him. And she was holding a gun.
“Mandy? Why do you have a gun?” Sophie asked loudly.
“Shut the door.” Her assistant trained the gun in Sophie’s direction.
By the firm way she held it, Sophie guessed she knew how to use it too. She paused but did as she said.
“Now move over next to him.”
“What are you doing?” Sophie asked.
Mandy, no longer the sweet assistant Sophie had come to enjoy working with, rolled her eyes. Suddenly she looked older, her gaze remote and icy. “Making a lot of money, that’s what.”
She glanced at Ronald for confirmation, but he simply shook his head as if he was confused by this.
“Stand up, Ronald,” Mandy ordered.
“Are you going to kill both of us? How can you think you’ll get away with this?” Sophie asked. It probably wouldn’t be that hard, but she just wanted to keep the woman talking.
“I’m only killing you. Rather, Ronald is.”
“What?” Her boss finally spoke, horror in his voice.
Mandy rolled her eyes again and spoke to Ronald as if Sophie weren’t in the room. “I’m not giving you the gun, you moron. We’re going down to the parking garage and I’m killing her. It will look like you did, though. If you try to cross Vargas, he’ll send the evidence to the police.”
Sophie looked at her boss. Dark circles under his eyes stood out against his pale face. Out of the corner of her eye, Sophie could see the door slowly opening. Mandy had her back facing the door and it took all of Sophie’s willpower not to look in that direction.
Unfortunately she wasn’t so sure about Ronald. It was stupid. Probably the stupidest thing she’d ever done, but she turned to Ronald and started yelling at him. Somehow she had to distract Mandy and give Jack an opening. If Mandy had wanted Sophie dead, the other woman would have shot her the moment she walked in the door. But it was clear she wanted to do the job downstairs. Probably because dragging a bleeding body through the building would be impossible to explain.
“Did you know about those weapons being shipped by Keane? Is that why someone tried to kill me? Did you set me up, you son of a bitch? Is this all about money?” Sophie’s voice rose with each word. She silently prayed Ronald didn’t give away Jack’s position.
Ronald stared at her. “I can explain—”
Sophie grabbed Ronald’s hand, pulling him to the floor at the same time Jack made his move. Everything happened so quickly, Sophie didn’t have time to do anything other than stare from her position on the floor.
A loud yelp sounded from Mandy as Jack slammed his gun across her head. The woman crumpled under the force, her body hitting the floor with a loud thud.
Jack kicked her gun away, then immediately trained his own weapon on Ronald. “Move away from her slowly.” His voice had a deadly—and damn terrifying—edge to it.
He had that same look in his eyes he’d had after he shot those men. Seeing him in action now sent shivers snaking throughout her body. He’d been bossy as hell with her, but he hadn’t been scary. Not even when she’d tried to escape. If anything he’d just been frustrated. She was so glad she wasn’t on the receiving end of his wrath.
Wordlessly, her boss pushed up from the floor and stood.
“Now sit. Hands on the desk where I can see them.”
“You okay, Soph?” Jack asked, never taking his eyes off Ronald.
“I’m fine.” The way he shortened her name warmed her insides, but she brushed it away. Moving quickly, she shut and locked the door.
“Take off your tie,” Jack ordered Ronald.
Sophie came up to stand next to Jack. “What are you doing?”
“I want you to tie her up,” he said quietly.
Ronald slid the tie across the desk. Without making eye contact, Sophie took it and bound her assistant’s wrists tightly behind her back. Mandy didn’t move once. When Sophie rolled her over, she was deadweight. Maybe things would register later, but for now it was hard to feel anything for a woman who had just told her with no emotion she was going to kill her.
“You can sit, Sophie,” Jack said. She couldn’t help noticing that his voice softened when he said her name. And she didn’t know what to do with the feelings that evoked inside her. She certainly liked it, though. Way too much.
She sat on the edge of one of the seats across from Ronald’s desk. Jack did the same, but his gun never wavered.
“Who are you?” Ronald asked.
“You are going to answer my questions. If I think you’re lying, I will kill you.” Sophie didn’t think he would, but Jack’s icy voice was convincing. “How long have you been working for Miguel Vargas?”
Ronald shot a mournful look at Sophie, then returned his gaze to Jack. “Six months.”
Hearing him admit it sent a punch of shock slamming into Sophie. She’d known Ronald for years. He’d devoted his life
to helping people. It was the reason he’d started SBMS. To get medical supplies to countries that otherwise wouldn’t have any. How had he become involved with a man like Vargas?
Jack continued, that same edge in his voice. “Who is he working with in Africa?”
“I don’t know.”
Jack’s gun hand shifted along the desk and Ronald threw his arms up.
“I don’t know, I swear. Miguel doesn’t tell me anything.”
“Why does he want Sophie dead?”
“I . . . I’m not sure. He knows she was at Keane’s hangar Sunday night. And now he also knows she took pictures.”
Jack was silent for a moment as he watched Ronald. “Is that why he tried to have her killed?”
Ronald nodded and once again Sophie felt as if someone had punched her right in the gut. Ronald had known Vargas tried to kill her. She struggled to find her voice, wanting to know if it had been before or after she’d almost died the first time.
Jack took a menacing, controlled step closer to the desk. “Did you know he planned to kill her?”
Tears burned Sophie’s eyes as she waited for the answer.
“No, I swear it. He called me Monday and said he’d be taking care of her, but then you guys disappeared. When she called me I told her to stay away.” He turned to look at her then. “I told you to stay out of Miami. Sophie, you have to believe me, I never thought you’d be affected by any of this. It’s—”
“Shut the fuck up. You don’t talk to her unless I give you permission.” Jack tapped the desk with his gun, drawing Ronald’s attention back to him.
Ronald paled as he stared at Jack. “How long has Mandy worked here, Sophie?” he asked her, his focus never wavering from Ronald.
She wiped away the few stray tears threatening to spill over, refusing to cry in front of either of them. “About a year, but she interned here her senior year in college.”
Jack’s mouth pulled into a thin line as he directed his next statement to Ronald. “You said you’ve been working with Vargas six months.”
Ronald shifted nervously in his seat, his eyes on the weapon. “I have. I didn’t know Mandy even worked for him until tonight. I swear! She said she’s been monitoring Sophie’s actions and basically admitted she’s the one who told Vargas that Sophie took pictures at the hangar. She found them on her computer.”
Sophie gripped the edge of the chair. If Mandy had been monitoring her, then Vargas would definitely have known of Hannah’s importance in her life. Hannah was the only friend who called the office. Hell, Sophie had even invited Mandy out to have drinks with the two of them on more than one occasion. That treacherous bitch.
The fear and worry she’d been keeping at bay pushed at her again, making her entire body tense, but she ruthlessly shoved them back down. She had to get through one problem at a time.
Chapter 13
Tradecraft: the methods developed by intelligence operatives to conduct their operations.
Jack tilted his head toward Sophie but still didn’t take his eyes off Ronald. “Sophie, I want you to take a picture of Mandy with the cell phone I gave you.”
“Uh, okay. Why?”
Always so inquisitive. Jack bit back a smile despite the situation. “I’m going to send her picture to my boss and see if they get a hit.” Normally he would handle an interrogation situation very differently, but with Sophie in the room, he was keeping himself restrained.
Barely.
Ronald was holding something back. Jack could feel it straight to his bones. Every time the man spoke, Jack could see the lies and worry in his eyes.
Jack waited as Sophie stood and did as he asked. When he heard the faint click of the phone, he spoke again. “Sophie, there’s a supply closet at the end of this hall. I want you to find anything you can to further restrain Mandy.”
Though he couldn’t see her, he could actually feel Sophie pause before leaving. Probably because she could sense the contained violence inside him. It wasn’t directed at her. Could never be directed at her. But if Ronald had had anything to do with those men going after Sophie, Jack would kill him here and now. Everything else including his fucking job could be damned. The thought of this bastard being in on that hit against her life made the primal man he kept locked down come roaring to the surface with the need to protect a woman who could never be his.
When he heard the door close behind her, he rounded the desk. With a foot, Jack shoved the chair back and placed his weapon over Ronald’s knee. “What aren’t you telling me?” Getting information out of people could be tricky. And Jack didn’t have time to figure out this guy’s weaknesses. Information gained from torture was rarely reliable, but the fear of pain was often worse.
“They have my daughter,” the other man whispered.
Jack paused, mentally reviewing the dossier he had on Weller’s family. It said his daughter was backpacking through Europe with friends. “How long?”
Beads of sweat rolled down his face. “Six months. So far they say they haven’t harmed her, but they threatened to kill her if I didn’t help with some of their deliveries.”
“Who are they working with in Africa?” Jack had already asked, but he still wasn’t convinced Ronald was telling the truth.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t know. All I’m in charge of is providing a cover to get into places they normally couldn’t.”
“What about Keane Flight?”
“Paul is—was, I guess—in charge of doctoring flight logs and in some cases he deleted trips entirely. We coordinated our stories and I updated everything here.”
Okay, that lined up with what Keane had told Wesley. “When’s your next meeting with Vargas?”
“This weekend. Maybe sooner. He’s promised I’ll have my daughter back.”
This was why people should call in professionals when they were in trouble. “Did you call any law enforcement about this?”
Weller snorted. “No. Who could I have called? The local cops? The feds? She was taken in another country. They have no jurisdiction there, and law enforcement in most South American countries are too scared of Vargas. And . . .” He swallowed hard, fear bleeding into his eyes.
“What?” Jack pressed the gun harder against his knee.
“As soon as Vargas contacted me, he also sent me the bloody ear of someone. Told me it belonged to the son of someone who’d tried to go behind his back and involve cops. He said if I wanted my daughter back in one piece I’d follow his instructions or I’d start receiving boxes of her . . . body parts.” His voice cracked on the last word.
“When’s the last time you talked to him?” Jack asked, his voice monotone. He needed this guy to keep his cool.
“This morning.”
“When’s the last time you talked to your daughter?”
His shoulders slumped. “Couple days ago.”
Jack sheathed his weapon in his shoulder holster and went back to sit across from Ronald. “You realize that once you give him what he wants, he will kill your daughter?”
Ronald shook his head. “He promised that—”
“He’s a drug lord, Ronald. And he’s helping a terrorist faction in North Africa bring biological weapons into this country. Do you really think he’ll keep his word?” Fucking moron.
Ronald’s mouth dropped open. “I thought he was just running drugs.”
Could he really be that naive? Or maybe he’d just wanted to hold on to hope for his daughter’s sake. Once a person gave up the last shred of hope, it was over. Jack scrubbed a hand over his face. People never ceased to amaze him. “You have one thing going for you.”
“What?”
“You said you’re meeting him in days, so if Miguel is coming to Miami, something big is going down. Next time you talk to him, demand to talk to your daughter and don’t take no for an answer. You need to mak
e sure he’s bringing her with him.”
“But what if—”
“You have something he wants. Even if he threatens your daughter, tell him you need proof. If he doesn’t comply, hang up on him. You’ll push him into a corner and get him off balance.”
He shook his head almost violently. “I can’t do that. He’s been letting me talk to her at regular times. I can’t—”
“If you value your daughter’s life you will. Trust me when I say I’ve done this before. If you don’t start negotiating with him, he’ll push and push until he knows you’ll agree to just about anything.” It was how predators like Vargas worked.
Jack stood as Sophie entered the room carrying twine.
“What are you going to do now?” Worry and a heavy dose of fear laced Ronald’s voice.
Jack pointed to Mandy’s unmoving form. “Get rid of one of your problems.”
“Are you going to . . . ,” Ronald started, but didn’t finish.
“No, I’m not going to kill her. She’ll be picked up by the people I work for.” And they very well might kill her, but that wasn’t Jack’s problem. Considering that the woman was the reason Sophie had almost been killed, he didn’t care if she died.
Ronald stood. “If she’s working for him, Vargas will know something’s wrong. You can’t—”
“Sit down and calm down. He’s going to think she skipped town. If Vargas asks about Mandy—which I doubt he will because he’ll be admitting she was a mole in your company—you tell him you haven’t seen her.”
“What do you want me to do now?”
“Nothing. Go home to your wife and act like this conversation never happened. I’ll be in contact tomorrow.” Jack turned to Sophie. “Did you see anyone in the hall?”
She shook her head, but he didn’t miss the hurt look she shot Weller before returning her attention to him.
Jack gritted his teeth. He understood that the man was trying to save his daughter, but he’d been willing to sacrifice Sophie. The pain in her dark eyes as she watched him lift Mandy off the floor tore at his insides like razor wire.
Jack understood how she felt and more than anything, he wanted to wipe that lost look off her face and hurt the person who had put it there. He wanted it so badly he had to contain the sudden, very real urge to clock Weller across the face. It wouldn’t do any good other than make him feel better, and Sophie didn’t need any more violence in her life.
