Chief (Kings of Guardian Book 7) (The Kings of Guardian)

by Kris Michaels

  Chad stared at her and shook his head. "I'm flying with you to New York." He lifted a hand before she could speak. "I love you, and I'm telling you I'm not happy. Not by a long shot, but I won't stop you. You don't get a say on my following along. I'm calling Jason, and I'm letting him know we're expecting. That is non-negotiable. I will be given a location where I can go that will be close but won't compromise your mission. I won't be across the entire fucking globe from you and our baby."

  Jasmine mentally ferreted through his demands as she melted into her man's arms. She could deal with his restrictions. She needed to call Jason first to ensure brother dearest didn't tell Chad the rest of the story, but yeah, she could live with Chad being somewhere close by. Besides, nobody ever said you couldn't have the honeymoon before the wedding. Hell, she was having a baby before the wedding. Jasmine relaxed and closed the distance between them.

  "Deal. I'll call Jason right now and let him know." She snuggled into his neck and drew a deep breath as he pulled her closer to him.

  "Don't think for a second I don't know you're working an angle, sweetheart. When I figure out what it is, I'll make the punishment fit the crime."

  She lifted away from him, and pointed at herself and innocently batted her lashes at him. "Who? Me?"

  He struggled to hide a smile and failed. "Yeah, you." He shook his head and dropped his lips to feather against hers in an enticement she could never resist.

  Huh, maybe she'd call Jason later.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The report on Tatyana's internet usage gave him nothing. She hadn't logged onto the computer he'd authorized her to use. From the report, he determined when she was left in the apartment by herself she'd bingedSupernatural on one of the subscription channels. For a micro-second, that thought made him happy until he realized she'd never sit with Amanda, Keelee, and Ember drinking wine and watching the show that was the women's answer to the men's weekly poker night on the ranch.

  Chief leaned forward and rubbed his temples trying to massage away the stress and pain of the last twenty-four hours. The door to the study stood open, and he could see the open doorway to his bedroom. He'd left her sleeping about thirty minutes ago. The niggling ominous feeling that surrounded his connection to Tatyana had grown into a raging storm. At least in his mind it had, and that was unacceptable.

  Chief stared at the desk blotter. He was missing something in this situation. The warning flags were everywhere, but he'd be damned if he could figure out what was happening. And the kicker? The temptation in the bed not sixty feet away was definitely working an angle. But what, and how? Fuck, what he wouldn't give to pick up the phone and call Jacob or Doc. Chief chuckled to himself as he threw his Mont Blanc pen across the desk. Hell, he'd even enjoy Dixon and Drake's continuous banter, but wishing for impossibilities wasn't getting him any closer to figuring out this riddle.

  He half-heartedly thumbed through the IT security reports. The documentation outlined sites visited and data usage. As a comm specialist with Alpha team, he knew what he was looking at, but nothing seemed out of place. At least it made him feel like he was doing something. He gazed moved from the next-to-non-existent report on Tatyana's usage to his own electronic trails. The encrypted business emails were tagged with a five digit precursor indicating there had been no attempt to hack into David Xavier's life. His eyes caught on one line and backtracked. That one event didn't show encryption. He picked up the phone and waited for his chief of security to answer.

  "Yes, sir?" Casey's voice drew him away from the line that stuck out like a sore thumb.

  "I'm reviewing the IT report you sent up. There is one instance where it shows I utilized my phone but I didn't log onto my secure server. Reference number: X2573. Tell me what your system shows on that transaction."

  "One moment, sir."

  Chief heard the tell-tale tap of keys as he waited.

  "It says you accessed an IP search engine the night before last, just before midnight. The trail from the search engine leads to a small email server in… it looks like the UK, but I'm not a computer genius."

  Son of a bitch. She'd used his phone and made contact with the Bravata. There was no other explanation. "Is there any way to determine what was done at that site?"

  "Honestly, there could be, but this is the limit of my knowledge. I can call in my computer expert if you need me to, sir," Casey offered.

  "No, it doesn't matter anymore."

  "Yes, sir."

  Chief hung up and leaned back in his chair. He stared out the open door and blew a lungful of air out trying to come to grips with what had happened. Tatyana had contacted someone the night before the European team of the Bravata ambushed them. Had she arranged the entire situation? Hell, it could all be an elaborate mind fuck. The Bravata bosses act like they don't know what is going on. She sets the entire thing into motion with one email. The knife wound at his hip contracted when he moved. She gave the routing number to the two men identified as her team members back in Bern. Fuck. If true, she'd played him like a concert violinist. Alright. Time to make a game plan and stick to it. The woman had shown her hand, even though she didn't know it yet.

  Chief grabbed the phone again and hit Garrett's direct line. "'Sup David."

  "I need to work out. Meet me in the gym." The muscle in his hip complained at the thought, but fuck it; he'd work his upper body with weights until he couldn't think. He dropped the phone and headed out of his office. Tatyana walked out as he exited as if she'd just woken up. Right. He'd bet she'd been standing in the doorway listening to his conversation with Casey and Garrett. She blinked owlishly at him. He couldn't help but notice she wore the shirt he'd thrown onto the floor last night. The damn thing dipped almost to her knees. Nothing he said right now would go well. He was too pissed. Chief passed her by with a small nod of acknowledgment. It was an all-out effort to get to the gym and reduce some stress.

  "Well, that was rude. What did I do to deserve the cold shoulder?" Her words trailed after him. He stopped and ground his teeth trying to control the aggression she had heated to a rolling fucking boil. He purposefully relaxed his shoulders and turned around with a carefully blanked face.

  "That is exactly what I'd like to know, Tatyana."

  She palmed her face with both hands and rubbed. As if she'd been asleep. Yeah right, she wasn't going to fool him. Not any longer. His gut churned, with anger and self-derision. How could he have fallen for the woman's ploy? Well, the ruse stopped now.

  "What are you talking about?" She replied after a huge yawn that seemed real. No, fuck that. He wasn't going to give her the benefit of any doubt. Not anymore.

  "You used my phone and made contact with someone in Europe, and the following morning we were attacked, and a man is killed. I doubt that little event was a coincidence." Chief sneered, and let her see the anger that seethed just below the surface of his rigidly maintained calm.

  Her hands dropped to her side. Her stunned look appeared authentic. "No…" She shook her head side to side as all the color dropped from her face, leaving a deathly pallor in its wake.

  "Yes. Not too surprising from someone who sells people for a living."

  "At least I don't buy them! What are you doing with those women? What perverted things are they going to have to endure because you bought them for your sick bastard friends?" Taty's eyes flashed as she spit the words toward him.

  "I guarantee those women will receive far better care than the Bravata gave them. Those fifteen lives are now safe, warm and being respectfully treated. Can you say that about any of the others you've kidnapped and sold into slavery?"

  Her gaze fell to the floor, and her body seemed to collapse upon itself.

  "I didn't think so," he growled savagely. "How many times have you replaced 'toys' because the fucking owner killed them? Where do you get off being offended? You. Set. Me. Up. I was supposed t
o die in that warehouse, wasn't I? Or maybe you were planning on kidnapping me and killing the men that worked for me? I don't know what your end game is, but I do know one thing—you're a criminal of the lowest sort. You have no conscience, no morals, and very little remaining value to me…" Chief's coldly enunciated words faded to a hoarse whisper at the end. He silently chanted a mantra to fill the hole opening in his soul. She's the enemy. Tatyana is the enemy. The woman is my fucking enemy! Chief pivoted and stalked out of the apartment ignoring her shell-shocked stare.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Three days… well, thirty hours to be exact since David had left the apartment and not returned. The fact his phone was monitored as well as the devices she used kept eating at her. Why was his phone monitored? From everything she'd gathered from his staff and his security team, not to mention the way he traveled and moved around the city, he was a very private man. The only explanation that she could think of was that maybe he was paranoid. But to monitor your own interactions? She'd gone around and around on this problem almost exclusively because she wouldn't allow herself to think that he'd leave her here while he went to the meet. Besides, he needed her as a conduit to the Bravata … unless he bypassed her and called them directly. But that didn't make any sense either and only added more to the thoughts swirling in her head. David didn't want any interaction with the Bravata that could be recorded. He'd controlled every aspect of the business proposition and the meet through a third party—her.

  Tatyana retreated into the corner of the huge sectional, hugged her knees to her chest and gazed over the city-scape. It was a very nice view—for a prison. She had television, food, music and even liquor, but other than that, she had no contact with the rest of the world. The security guards outside her door ensured that remained constant.

  Using her fingernail, she played with a loose thread at the hem of her jeans. Artisanal distressed designer jeans for which she'd paid far too much money. Tatyana looked out the window but didn't focus on the view. She ached. Her soul ached with the desire to tell David the truth, but she couldn't, not with the head of the Bravata so close. The documentation she'd amassed would put them away for the rest of their lives, but to do that, the people at the top needed to be identified. Then and only then, would the bastards be prevented from hurting anyone ever again. Had she sold her soul to the devil? Yes. Without a doubt, she had. The faces of the countless men and women who had been bought and sold with her assistance sickened her. Before David summoned her into his life, she had a plan if she made it out of this operation alive. She'd find a small corner of the world and withdraw, regroup and try to figure out how to live a life outside the Bravata. But for now, the scum that wielded power and made the decisions within the Bravata needed to be eliminated. That one thought had become her mantra. But now, because of one man, she sat in a penthouse cage and considered throwing all that work, all the sacrifices and all the lives out the window. All of that because she loved him.

  The realization, surprisingly, hadn't been an earth shattering moment. The small things he did, the way he worked so hard to get the people in need aid. His quiet strength and innate goodness had surrounded her. No, David Xavier had consumed her. She stood and sauntered over to the view of the massive green park. She shook her head and closed her eyes. This wasn't about her. It never had been. She couldn't throw away the years of work. She owed the successful conclusion to this mission to the people who would never be found.

  The front door to the apartment opened. David crossed the space between them. He wore a black bespoke suit and red silk tie. His eyes were as cold as the most northern reaches of the Arctic. She inhaled deeply and mentally braced for whatever he wanted.

  He handed her the phone. "Call them. Give them these coordinates and this date. They will call back in ten minutes and give me the time of the meet. If they do not, they will lose my business, and they will lose you."

  Tatyana hesitated as she reached for the phone. Her eyes flitted up to his. His acidic tone confirmed that David thought she'd betrayed him. She lowered her eyes and opened the phone before she pushed the recall button and waited.

  "Yes."

  "Are you prepared to copy?" Tatyana asked.

  "Affirmative."

  David's body tensed as he cast a sharp glance at the phone.

  She related the longitude and latitude of the meet and the date. "You have exactly ten minutes to call back with the time for the meet. If you do not, our client will walk away for good, and he will kill me."

  "You are replaceable. The client, however, is not. We will call back."

  David took the phone from her and headed toward the door. Taty called after him, "You can't even spend ten minutes in my presence?" He didn't even turn around before he soundlessly closed the door behind him. His expensive cologne still lingered in the air. She shook her head and took a deep breath. David's stoic stance beside her when she said that he would kill her hadn't altered in the slightest. She'd hoped hearing the words would cause a reaction, but there'd been none. She closed her eyes and wished he had as much compassion for her as he did the women he'd acquired earlier in the week, but he considered them victims. In his mind, she was a criminal… which was ironic because he was a criminal for buying the women.

  Looking at her situation was disheartening. Honestly, it was quite grim. The Bravata didn't care if she lived or died. David, it seemed, didn't care either. She'd given her heart to a criminal, and it seemed she meant nothing to him. No, she wouldn't succumb to her circumstances. She'd worked too, damn hard, and sacrificed too much to catch these bastards.

  The door opened again. David strode across the room and extended his hand. The phone vibrated in his palm. She picked it up and answered it.

  "One o'clock in the afternoon. The merchandise will be moved from us to you after the account number has been received."

  David shook his head and whispered, "The account number will be given after an inspection by you and only after a face-to-face between them and me."

  Taty relayed his words exactly as he stated them.

  "Agreed."

  The line went dead. She handed the phone back to her jailor. His expression gave her nothing to go by. No emotion whatsoever.

  "Get packed. Clothes for three days only. Security will come for you within the hour." He turned on his heel and headed out the door.

  "I'm no more a monster than you." Her words were a last ditch attempt to somehow bridge the chasm that stood between them.

  He stopped and drew a deep breath. His massive shoulders under the tailor made clothes lifted and then dipped. He turned and stared at her for a moment. She couldn't utter a sound. His gaze held her spellbound. The pain in the man's eyes seemed to seep through his body. "I have killed people who deserved to die. I was the sole judge and the executioner. I did it because if I didn't more would die. My culpability isn't in question. It never has been. I am what I am. Some would call me a monster, some a mercenary. I consider myself a man who is doing the best he can."

  Taty snapped up that piece of information and clung to it. "David, I promise you that I am doing the best I can also. Have I done things that make me a monster in some people's eyes? Yes. Without a doubt. Whatever you think you know about me, I know deep inside you sense the truth. I'm doing the best I can, and I'm sorry for the lies and deceit, but it would seem both of us live in that web."

  She panted, trying to settle her nerves. That was as close as she could push telling the truth to him. She'd regret his arrest. But she'd never regret the time she'd spent with him. He nodded once and left. Taty looked down at her hand and then back at the door. He'd left her the phone. If they were tracing her activity, they'd know she reached out, but they wouldn't be able to know to whom before they left New York. Thirty-seven seconds later the longitude, latitude, date and time were in the draft folder of the ghost account for her h
andler. There was nothing sent. Nothing traceable. She wiped the browser history, turned off the phone and dropped it onto the couch. MI6 now had the information. How they could get there and get set up in the short amount of time they had was yet to be seen, but she'd done her part. Whatever happened, she'd risk everything to see it through.

  Jason looked up from his desk at the sound of Sonya's heels clicking on the hardwood of his office floor. "You have a secure call waiting. Your friend from London."

  Jason nodded and waited until she exited the office. He picked up the encrypted line. "King."

  "Ah, Mr. King, Agent Churchill here. I'm calling to let you know I'm going to be going on a holiday." Jason's eyebrows raised. He had no idea what the fuck the man was talking about, but he'd play the game.

  "Thank you so much for letting me know. Where will you be going?" Jason turned and looked at the large gold leaf map of the world on his wall as he spoke.

  "I've been saving for eight years, and I finally pulled together enough money to buy a ticket to the Maldives. Us public employees don't make the money you private security types do I'm afraid."

  Jason's body clenched as his eyes went straight to the Indian Ocean. "Really? If you're interested, we always have openings. I've never been to the Maldives. I hear it is very nice."

  "I hear it is an excellent vacation place, and although there are hundreds of private islands I'm headed to one of the more populated areas. Just going to kick back and let someone else drive me around. I've gotten tired of being in charge of every detail every day. Time to relax."

  "Sounds like a plan. When are you leaving?" He glanced at the last report from Jacob. They'd hit the ground yesterday and were ninety percent done with the technical countermeasures for the island and had identified and fortified the defensive positions.