"I love you, Daddy." She moved up and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
"I know. Get your ass out of here."
Keelee lifted off the straw and brushed a few stray pieces off her jeans. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Now, git."
She laughed as the dogs scattered at his command.
He clicked his tongue and drew an exaggerated breath. "Well, hell at least the animals listen to me."
Keelee reached a hand down to help her dad up. "They are better behaved than I am."
"Lord, ain't that the truth."
Chapter Three
The intense burn of his muscles in his back and arms felt damn good. Exercising was the only thing Chief had left from his previous life. He focused on the pull-ups and his form. His trainer matched his up and down rhythm. Chief loved the competition, even if he won every challenge his trainer gave him. The physical exertion provided an outlet for the stress he was under. The trainer was damn good, but for most of his life, Chief had survived on and honed his physical stamina. He knew when others stopped, he and his brothers at Guardian would continue. Physical sacrifice was ingrained in his psyche. Chief zoned out and let his muscles do what he'd trained them to do. Richard Garrett, his trainer, slowed and then finally dropped. Chief continued. After all, his trainer said to go to exhaustion, and he wasn't close to that limit. He closed his eyes and moved. Up, breathe, down, up, breathe, down, up, breathe, down. The pattern, the mantra and the burn of his muscles, melded into a place for escape and Chief took it, losing himself in the physical routine.
"If you are doing this to make me feel worthless, it's working." Richard's unrepentant whine brought Chief out of his head. He muscled up again and held, looking down at his trainer. The man was alright. Not the type he'd usually find himself around, but then again, Chief rarely associated with anyone outside of Guardian.
"What? Did you get tired already?" Chief taunted.
"Hell, man, a robot would be tired by now. I don't know that I've seen anyone do that many pull-ups before."
"Then you don't know the right people." Chief relaxed his arms and allowed a full stretch of his biceps, triceps, and back before he dropped to the ground.
"Obviously. The question I keep coming back to is why do you keep me around when you could do this on your own?" Richard handed him a bottle of water.
"I know myself. If I don't have someone keeping me accountable, I'd forget to workout."
"Bullshit." Richard dropped to the padded workout floor.
Chief tipped his head back and laughed. The comment reminded him of Dixon and Drake. "No bullshit. With all this," He gestured to the mansion they were currently residing in, "…and the business demands that fill my day I would forgo working out. And I'm sure you've figured out this is my relief valve. I'd explode, implode or hell, maybe even cease to exist without my two hours a day down here with you."
The cover he'd assumed demanded he become a business savant. Thank God for his master's degree in organizational management. The work that was being sent to David wasn't quite over his head, but it was damn close. The appearance that he was who he claimed had to be maintained. God only knew how long it would take to work his way to the head of the fucking organization while Guardian, Mossad, MI6, the CIA and SISMI, the Italian Secret Service, gathered evidence to decimate the worldwide organization.
Richard dropped back on his elbows and crossed his legs at the ankle. He leveled his gaze at Chief and squinted his eyes. "Well, at least I don't feel like a loser anymore, but damn it, man, would you please quit emasculating me with my workout program?"
Chief walked over to the treadmill. He powered it up and straddled the belt. "Sure, as soon as you beat me on a 10k run."
Richard groaned and rolled onto his side before popping up and walking over to the adjacent treadmill. "So we've been working out together every day in some form or fashion for what…the last seven months?"
Chief bumped up the speed on his treadmill to an eight-minute mile. He'd go faster after Richard stopped being a Chatty Kathy. After years of enduring the Wonder Twins nonstop talking, the small amount of banter Richard engaged in wasn't too much of an annoyance. The thought of the brainiacs squared made him smile. He'd never admit it, but he missed those two. He extracted himself from his reminiscence.
"I believe you are correct. Seven months on the third. Why?"
"Well, I was just wondering if there was a significant other or if you were single?"
Chief glanced over at his trainer. The unusual topic piqued his curiosity. "There is no one. Not for a long time, just the job." Desiree was the last woman he'd cared about, but she had moved on liked he'd asked. Last he'd heard, she'd relocated to the eastern part of South Dakota and married the owner of a huge farming co-op near Aberdeen. She was a sweetheart, but deep down he knew that she wasn't strong enough to deal with the life he led. He wasn't averse to settling down, but he needed someone with the capacity to deal with his life. All of his life, both the good and the bad.
"Oh. So, you know this place has some awesome nightlife."
Chief laughed and asked, "You've been sampling it?"
"Well, yeah, I mean I am single! Look, I know you'd have to take a cast of thousands, but maybe you should try to get out and have some fun. Come with me to a club."
Chief slowed his treadmill to a walk and then stopped it before he turned toward Richard. "I appreciate the thought, but that will never happen. If I need companionship it is purchased, private and devoid of public scrutiny."
"Man, it must suck staying hidden all the time." Richard hit the stop button on his machine.
"I've never known anything else." Chief wiped at the sweat rolling down his neck.
"You shouldn't bury yourself under a mountain of responsibilities. Life is so much more than work."
"Your life, perhaps. Yet, here you are, every day. Should you practice what you preach?"
"No, sir. I have a year contract with you. I get paid an insane amount of money to have you humiliate me at every workout. So far I've been to seven countries, cruised with you on two epic yacht voyages around the Caribbeanand Mediterranean and watched you lock yourself behind very solid closed doors with advisors and business associates. You are never alone, but you're always isolated and hell, I don't know… kind of removed from the world, I guess?" He motioned toward the armed guards that followed him everywhere. They were currently standing at the doors to the gymnasium watching one of the maids gather towels. "One thing I learned for sure, being David Xavier sucks. You don't have much of a life, even though everyone would think you do. No, after this gig I'm going home. I'm using the generous salary you've given me to open my gym. Then I plan on finding someone to settle down with."
The kid was perceptive. The "business meetings" started just as Garrett had been hired. That was after Chief had endured five months of etiquette, diction, foreign language classes, and tutelage on all things David Xavier. The tour around the world cemented his cover, and the few people who his handlers selectively let into his world could confirm his identity if anyone asked. The last year had been nothing but a pressure cooker of events that would hopefully culminate with the bastards that ran the human trafficking ring dead or behind bars. Dead would be his preference, although that wasn't the mission. He brought himself out of his dark thoughts, glanced at his trainer and popped back into the conversation. "Where's home?"
"A little town called Atwater. The place is in the armpit of California. Hell, even the Air Force pulled their people out of the area when they started closing bases. But, it's home. I love the people, the community festivals and the small town feel. What about you? Where's home?"
Chief cocked his head looking at his after-a-fashion friend. "I was raised in the States, but my secondary education was primarily overseas. I don't have any roots. I own eighteen homes, three yachts, and several r
ailroad cars that I use to tour when I'm in Europe, but as far as a home? That would be hard to say." Except his heart knew exactly where home was. A huge ranch settled just south of Hollister, South Dakota. Highway 85 North out of the Black Hills was his road home. If this assignment went well, he'd go back.
Richard accompanied him over the mats where he led Chief through some intense stretching. Post workout stretching was the one thing he never really did when he was training at the ranch, and he was damn sure going to incorporate it when, or if, he got back home.
"Seriously, though, I know it is a stupid saying, but maybe you should take the time to stop and smell the roses. Find someone special, otherwise, when you're old and used up, the only memories you'll have are of the people after your money."
Chief lowered into a hamstring stretch and closed his eyes. With the exception of his time with Guardian, money had been the driving factor of his life…too little of it, not too much. He lifted, switched legs and dipped again, feeling the strain work its way through his muscles.
A distinct clearing of a throat brought Chief's head up. He glanced over at his personal assistant, Joel. The man was a godsend. Just as Gabriel had predicted, Joel had faultlessly led Chief through a myriad of meetings, business transactions and day to day minutiae that would have sunk his fledgling cover. The man was a mild-mannered, spry, sixty-seven years young. Joel's never ending energy proved the man was a machine and kept Chief on schedule. He glanced at his watch again and frowned. He had twenty-five more minutes according to the schedule he memorized this morning.
"Sir, forgive the interruption, but Prince Tawfeek called on your private line. He expressed a desire to speak with you about a venture you'd discussed."
"Thank you, Joel. I appreciate you letting me know. Please clear the next hour. I'll be up."
The little man bowed and turned on his heel. Mike threw a glance at Garrett and shrugged before he half laughed, "I'll keep those roses in mind. But until then, work calls." He stood and gave a two finger salute and a half-hearted smile.
He spun on his heel and headed out the door followed closely by his security detail. He glanced at his watch. Joel, Gabriel's faithful and trusted assistant, now turned business puppet master, had set up a dinner meeting tonight. A smallish merger of seventy-five million dollars he needed to work through with a trigger shy CEO. The merger was the first in a line of four deals that must go through. Joel explained that David Xavier wouldn't normally deal with such a small scale acquisition, but based on the size of the remaining three dominos; he needed to prompt the CEO into a Rube Goldberg launch that would trigger a series of events culminating in a cool billion dollars profit.
He'd delay before he'd called the prince. He couldn't seem too anxious to set his plan into motion. The reality was it could take months to get through to the person at the top of the Bravata organization. But he would get to the filth at the top. He'd take the bastard out.
Mike shed his clothes as he entered his private quarters and headed for the shower. If anyone would have told him a year and a half ago that he'd be impersonating David Xavier, putting out feelers to purchase sex slaves and returning the phone calls of crown princes, he'd have told them they were insane. Well, hello insanity.
"I love this compound. South Dakota is a hidden treasure."
Frank Marshall watched Gabriel closely. They'd ended up on his front porch after a long day. The weather held brisk, damn near cold, but Amanda had bought outdoor heaters and installed them. The porch was his haunt, and now it was comfortable when the temperatures dipped. The peace and quiet out here allowed him to wind down from the physical demands the ranch placed on him. He wasn't a yearling anymore, but he still spent the day dealing with two thousand pound beasts that had more attitude than his daughters, which said something. Gabriel, well hell, who knew what he was doing here. As a matter of fact…"Figured you cottoned to it. You spend enough time here. Thought you were retired."
"Yep."
"Still here. Don't look retired." He didn't. The man still wore the office even if he didn't go into it on a daily basis.
"Got one more thing to do." Gabriel pushed his swing into an easy back and forth.
Frank toed the wood under him and let the gentle noise of the chains swinging the seat ease his soul. "What's that?"
"Got to get Chief home and the kids off the Russian's scope."
"That's two things."
Gabriel shrugged. "Same thing, actually."
"Going to get messy?"
"Oh, yeah." The finality of his statement left little doubt.
"For them or us?"
"Both."
"Shit."
"Yep."
Well, that was the way of life. Frank would be ready to deal with the fallout. He drew a long breath. Amanda didn't need any more pain in her life. He'd put his knees on the floor and say some words with the Lord, and then he'd wait.
Chapter Four
"Anya, you look marvelous." The sleazy smile that peeked out of the civilized shell Dima Orlov wrapped around his sinister aura was enough to make her skin crawl. The bastard had tried for years to tempt her into his bed. The last time he told her if she slept with him he could advance her position in the organization. She'd turned him down immediately. "I'm very happy doing what I do now and what I won't do… is you, for any reason."
His leathery face had reddened, and the veins in his forehead and neck bulged under his well-known temper. That had been a year and two deliveries ago. Working her way to the top of the Bravata would prove she was the leader they needed. She'd never bend over for a pig like Orlov.
"Dima, to what do I owe this revolting meeting? Another attempt to fuck me?" Taty settled into the chair across from him and watched as his eyes traveled over her body. She suppressed a shiver of disgust.
"Not this time. You've been selected to meet with a customer." His lip lifted in a sneer.
"Another delivery? So soon?" The Bravata were very cautious with the wealthy clients. The time span between order and delivery could be up to a year. She wasn't aware of any toys currently being held by Evgeniy.
"No. This is a new client. A very important man. He has expressed the desire to meet with a representative of the Bravata. A female. You are the only woman the boss trusts to convey his messages to the client." Dima reached into his pocket and retrieved a phone. He placed it on the table and slid it across the pristine white linen keeping his middle finger on the screen. "You will answer it when it rings. You will listen, and you will respond only when asked a question. Do not fuck this up, Anya."
"Or what?" Taty asked with her signature strain of pure cockiness perfected over the years.
Dima lifted an eyebrow at her. The look spoke volumes. She'd be dead. "Who is on the other end?"
"The boss. Do well, and you will be rewarded. Fail, and you will be dead." A shrug of fatalistic indifference accompanied the bored response.
"I do not fail, Dima." Taty moved the phone out from under the man's finger. "When will he call?"
"When the time is right. Enjoy the tea." Dima lifted from the small table and strode across the resplendent dining area. Tatyana nodded when the waiter approached with a tray of small pastries. She hadn't enjoyed anything in years, but finally, he was on the other end of the line. She'd do anything to impress him.
Mike strode into his office. He nodded to his security team, and they headed out the door. Briefings for today's meetings on the merger talks would wait. He felt pleasantly relaxed from his workout session. He undid the button of his suit jacket and hit the intercom. "Joel, get Prince Twafeek on the line, please."
"Right away, sir." The man's calm tones floated back at him.
Mike removed his jacket and sat down just as his phone buzzed. He hit a small divot beneath the phone and waited for the green light to flash indicating the conversation would be recorded befor
e he lifted the handle. "Prince Twafeek, thank you for taking my call."
"It is I who is honored, Mr. Xavier. I have some information for you concerning the business we discussed earlier."
"Indeed?" Mike left the conversation to the prince. The less he said, the more others spoke.
"There is a representative of the business that can meet with you tonight."
Ah… they were eager. "No, I'm sorry, that won't work for me. I'm booked. If you would be so kind, please relay to the representative that they may come to my residence the day after tomorrow. Promptly at three in the afternoon. While I am interested in the product they are selling, this foray isn't my only current endeavor, and several very advantageous propositions are on the table. Hopefully, the business owner understands I cannot limit my schedule to accommodate a single source."
"Are the other sources for the same merchandise?"
"One can't be too careful."
"I fear you would be putting fresh wine into used wineskins by using the other vendors. Simply a waste of effort, but I do understand the requirement to be sure of the product. I will relay your directions and concerns, and then I will remove myself from this process. Good day to you, Mr. Xavier."
"And to you, Your Highness." Mike ended the call and hit the button on his phone. Three different servers had saved the entire conversation. The prince could remove himself… for now.
"So you have two on this op. We made sure they briefed my guys on what they can and can't touch this time." Jacob King handed a headset to Jared. His brother put on the equipment while continuing to stare at the screen. Getting the teams to work with the investigators had been a challenge, but as long as the cops didn't go all cowboy and let the teams do their job entering and securing the scene, Jacob's men would play lackey and gather evidence. Obviously, learning not to contaminate the crime scene was a big sticking point, but hell, they'd figured it out.
Chief (Kings of Guardian Book 7) (The Kings of Guardian) Page 3
