Flash of Fury

by Lea Griffith

  King needed help. She had no other options at this point. The phone was ringing again, a distant sound like a cell phone left beneath a pillow on a couch.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Follow Madoc, Ms. Redding. Time is running out,” the woman urged her in a soft voice.

  The man was waiting in a Mercedes ahead of her.

  “I’m not the enemy, Ms. Redding. In fact, I think you’ll be interested in hearing what I have to tell you.”

  Allie hung up, not interested in anything other than getting King help. She put the car in gear and took off after the man called Madoc.

  They swerved through traffic, not rushing but moving quickly. After a half hour of driving, they came to a beautiful villa on a hill. Allie pulled through the gates and watched as those gates closed behind her.

  King still hadn’t come to, and she was worried. She pulled up to a large main house and parked the car, rushing out and training King’s weapon on Madoc. A woman built for sin and with eyes the color of frost walked slowly down the steps.

  “Ms. Redding, it’s nice to finally meet you,” the woman said and held out her hand.

  Allie swept the heavy gun back and forth between the woman and Madoc, who just continued to stand there patiently. His eyes were kind, but he was another big man, capable of bad things Allie was sure.

  “Who are you?”

  The woman lowered her hand and inclined her head. She was dressed in a cream linen pantsuit, her dark hair swept up into an elegant chignon. There was a scar, similar to a burn mark, along her left temple. She must have caught Allie looking at it, because she gave a small smile and traced it with a trembling hand.

  The gesture was inherently self-conscious, and it soothed something inside Allie. It made the unknown woman with the frostbitten eyes vulnerable.

  “I won’t ask again,” Allie said.

  “My name is Ella Banning, Ms. Redding, and I’m here to help you.”

  Chapter 18

  Madoc placed King on the enormous, ornate wooden bed and stepped back.

  “Someone’s coming,” he said gruffly.

  Allie stepped in front of Madoc, training the gun on him as she moved backward, closer to King’s position on the bed. She’d be damned if she’d let anyone hurt him.

  A small, low laugh sounded from the doorway. “Not to harm him, Ms. Redding. To stitch his thick-ass head up, I assure you.”

  Allie’s gaze moved from Madoc, who stepped back and turned to the side, to the woman who’d changed her clothing to black cargoes, black T-shirt, and black combat boots. She walked with a grace few women Allie had ever known could claim. More to the point, she floated over the carpeting, making no sound as she was at the door one minute and by the bed the next.

  Allie stepped to her, and within two seconds, the woman had Allie’s gun in her hand, barrel pointing at Allie’s forehead.

  Fear shot through Allie, bitter and biting, as a bead of sweat congealed on her spine. She opened her mouth, frozen for precious seconds, her mind unable to comprehend that the woman had even moved.

  “I don’t want to hurt you, Ms. Redding. I told you I want to help you. But you can’t go around pointing a gun at me and expect me not to react,” Ella said smoothly.

  “Get the gun out of my face,” Allie responded evenly. “Now.”

  Ella smiled, and once again Allie was caught up in the woman. Smooth, pale skin, unmarred with the exception of the mark at her temple. Her eyes were the clear, light blue-gray of the sky after a snowstorm. It was eerie. Her eyes told a story of cold death, while her smile spoke only of the warmth after the storm.

  She’d kill you but hold you afterward. Lovely.

  Ella lowered the gun and handed it back to Allie, handle first. “It helps if the safety’s off.”

  Allie simply glared at her. It was becoming her rote response to an unspoken threat. King was rubbing off.

  Ella simply inclined her head. “Madoc, please bring the physician in.”

  Madoc left to do the woman’s bidding.

  “Who the hell are you people?” Allie demanded.

  “I’m a member of Endgame Ops. That man on the bed is my team leader.” Ella glanced once at King, her face pinching in pain before her expression blanked.

  Allie recognized the emotion rolling through her at that moment—jealousy. “You’re the one who betrayed the team,” Allie dropped into Ella’s silence.

  Ella’s elegantly arched, brown eyebrows drew down before she cocked her head and stared hard at Allie. “Is that what he said?”

  Allie didn’t reply. She’d not give anything away. Besides, the little she knew could fill a thimble. It’s not like she and King had exchanged deep, dark secrets during the few days they’d been together. Wait, maybe they had. He had told her he’d killed his father, then changed his name. And she’d told him about her mother. She’d never told another soul about her mother.

  A discreet knock on the door broke the tension. Allie stiffened.

  “Francisco is here, Ella,” Madoc said in that deep, rusty voice.

  “Send him in,” she replied and glanced at Allie as if daring her to naysay.

  Allie shrugged, flipped the safety on the big Kimber, pulled back the chamber loading a round, and pointed it at Ella. “Safety’s not on now.”

  “Touché,” Ella said with a grin.

  That grin soothed Allie, much as the gesture earlier had. This woman had stories to tell, but not to Allie. And it was obvious by the affection in her voice when she’d called King her team leader that she wasn’t going to hurt him.

  Allie kept the gun focused anyway as a slight, raven-haired man stepped into the room. He appeared harried, his gaze darting to and fro and a veil of worry settling on his shoulders.

  “Francisco,” Ella said in a soft voice. “It’s so good of you to come when we need you.”

  Francisco’s entire demeanor changed when he saw Ella. A smile broke on his swarthy face as his brows rose to his hairline, and he hurried swiftly to the stunning spec ops soldier.

  “It’s been too long, Ella-Bella,” Francisco said with a smile, grabbing the slender woman and hugging her tightly before his face tightened and he stepped away. “You’re good?”

  “I am, but King has taken a pretty hard hit to the head.”

  Allie had no idea who this Francisco was, but he nodded and set a small bag on the bed. Allie took a step back, lowering her gun but keeping it firmly in her grip. One wrong move, and somebody was going to have a serious case of lead poisoning.

  Francisco got to work, checking King over and wincing when he found the wound on his head. He checked King’s pupils, his pulse, his breathing and blood pressure. Then he set about suturing King’s head. The bleeding had slowed dramatically, but the gash was at least four inches long, splitting his scalp viciously.

  Francisco didn’t acknowledge Allie in any way, and that was fine with her. The fewer people she knew, the less she knew about them. It was preferable. For a moment, Allie mourned the loss of her anonymity. She was onstage now. She’d hidden behind her father’s cloak of invisibility for years, but all of that was over.

  So regardless of how many people she avoided in this game, she was a player now. Her heart hurt, and she rubbed her chest. So much had changed on that fucking plane in Cameroon. Silence fell, and once Allie noticed it, she glanced up, meeting kind black eyes.

  “He’ll be fine. His head is much harder than we suspected,” the doctor said with a smile.

  All these people smiled. Except for King. Their mouths curved as if they weren’t all killers and liars. Except for King. The levity in every expression made even his occasional smiles precious to Allie.

  “He does have a hard head,” Allie ruefully acknowledged.

  Francisco looked at Ella. “He’s no doubt going to have the mother of all headaches.
He should probably take a few days to rest, but we’re talking about His Highness so it won’t happen. What the hell’s going on, Ella?”

  Ella shook her head, glanced at Allie, then back at Francisco. “Endgame business. The less you know, the better off you are.”

  Francisco nodded and finally turned to Allie. “Your father is a fine man.”

  Allie didn’t say a word. She didn’t know these people, didn’t trust them. How the hell did he know who her father was?

  He laughed. “Just like her father, isn’t she, Ella?” He turned then, gathered his bag, handed Allie a bottle of pills, and walked out whistling.

  Ella sighed and motioned to King. “He’ll rest for a bit. This place should be safe for another twenty-four hours, but it won’t take them long to track us down. I think we should talk.”

  Allie put the pill bottle beside the bed, pulled the chair beside the bed closer, and sat down, making sure to keep the Kimber on her thigh and her hand on the grip.

  Another sigh from the woman with the cold, cold eyes, though she too pulled a chair up and sat down.

  Silence held them tightly wrapped in its embrace. Allie refused to be the first one to speak. The woman had secrets? She could share them on her own. Allie neither wanted nor needed them.

  A rough breath shuddered through Ella. “They think I betrayed them?”

  Allie maintained her silence.

  A bitter laugh, another sigh, and then the torrent began. “Of course they think I betrayed them. I took a bullet for them, gave up the last year of my life for them. Of course they think I was the leak. Tell me, Ms. Redding, have you met Jude?”

  Something in the woman’s voice tugged at Allie’s heart. Allie shook her head.

  “I wanted to know if he was safe.” She rubbed a hand over her eyes. “Your father is a bastard. Francisco said he was a fine man. I agreed until Beirut.”

  Allie remained quiet, waiting. Something monumental was about to happen. She wanted nothing to do with it, became desperate to stop it.

  She held up a hand. “Ms. Banning, Endgame Ops business is Endgame Ops business. I have no dog in this fight.”

  “Oh, but I think you do, Ms. Redding. Your father is one, and if the looks you keep throwing at our fearless leader are any indication, you’ve another to feed now.”

  Anger brushed the edges of Allie’s mind, painting her vision red for a moment. This woman saw things Allie didn’t want her seeing. “Just say what you have to say.”

  Ella sat back in her chair. “They think I betrayed them, but the truth is, I was not the betrayer but the betrayed, and I’ve paid a thousandfold for putting my trust in a man who gave me over to the wolves.”

  Allie remained silent. A shiver danced over her arms, lifting the hair and making her stomach cramp. For some reason, she knew where this was going. “You worked for my father.” Statement, not question. She knew Ella had been a CIA liaison. But she was asking a deeper question. Ella Banning had the look of many others she’d seen come and go from her father’s house—broken but rebuilt harder, with less of a conscience. Yet the woman’s voice couldn’t hide her secrets. The men of Endgame Ops had become her family.

  Ella raised a brow and nodded slowly, her gaze trained on the man lying silently on the bed. “I was recruited out of high school. I went through my training during college, graduated early with a dual degree in international finance and foreign languages, and went on my first op at the age of twenty. Your father had me trained personally in the art of espionage—getting close to a target for more personal kills. He’s really good at his job, your father. Can kill you with a smile on his face.”

  Ella’s words echoed Allie’s earlier feelings about the woman herself. Despite her beauty—and no doubt she’d been targeted for both her intelligence and her physical appearance—she was a killer. Hadn’t she just held a gun to Allie’s forehead?

  Yes, she had.

  “Your father was the single largest influence in my life until I met Kingston McNally. Your father taught me how to kill. King taught me how to wait for the exact right moment to deal death. King tried to teach me trust, but your father indoctrinated me, showed me that no one is trustworthy—not family, bosses, lovers—nobody.”

  “Sounds like you’ve had it rough, Ms. Banning, but I’m not sure how any of that relates to me,” Allie said softly.

  Ella’s gaze moved to Allie, and she felt pinned, hemmed in by the brevity in those frigid orbs. “Why are you with King?”

  Allie pushed down her ire. “I don’t think I owe you any answers.”

  “You’ll answer me or…”

  “You’re threatening me? Oh, this is rich!” Allie stood then and began to pace, the weight of the Kimber a growing familiarity that brought a measure of peace in the midst of this shit storm. She stopped and leveled her gaze on Ella Banning. “I get it, I do. You hate my father, and you’re angry at your team for leaving you wherever the hell they left you. Yet, for some reason, here I am, watching you tend your team leader.

  “You speak of betrayal. You speak of hating my father. Your voice softens when you talk of this Jude character, which by the way, screams of emotional connection that most CIA operatives shouldn’t let leak into their voices. I think you need to give me some answers before we go much farther because, Ms. Banning, I haven’t heard great things about you, and you should probably plead your case before you start demanding shit out of me.”

  “You’ve got more of your father in you than anyone realizes, don’t you?” Ella let several moments pass between them. Allie remained standing, unwilling to give up her tactical advantage. Sure, the woman was as badass as King and could incapacitate Allie before she blinked, but with Allie standing and Ella sitting, Allie had the advantage. At this point, she’d take whatever she could get.

  “Your father trained me, inserted me into Endgame Ops as a CIA liaison, and then used me as a way of keeping tabs on Horace Dresden’s operations. He saw an opening to insert me as a double agent into Dresden’s operations and did so without my prior knowledge, giving Dresden information about Endgame Ops he never should have had. In the process of his grand machinations, your father got a man on my team killed and both myself and Madoc labeled traitors. He also got his double agent, though I’m not reporting to your father. I wonder how he feels about that. I wonder if he worries I’ve gone off the reservation.”

  Allie held up her hand, desperation slicing through her gut. “I don’t need to know this. Please just be quiet.” She’d known her father had a tough job. The world of black ops and spying was murky. No sun shone in the land of spooks and goblins. But to hear anyone say her father had led them intentionally into danger, while that might possibly be the truth, made Allie doubt who her father was. That he could so easily play with other people’s lives, maneuver them like players on a chessboard. It disgusted her.

  “The truth hurts, right? Thing is, your father has repeatedly denied he was the one to do this. But I know the truth because I’ve been mired in Horace Dresden’s operations for a year now—having to prove I’m loyal to a murdering bastard who takes innocents and destroys their souls before they’ve had a chance to live. Your father put me in the Endgame Ops situation, and if he isn’t the one who pulled the strings that got me into Dresden’s grasp, there’s a much bigger problem than any of us realize, Ms. Redding.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” Allie practically yelled her question at the woman. Part of what she’d said snagged in Allie’s mind. “You think it’s possible it wasn’t my father who wanted to use you as a double agent?”

  “I’m telling you I don’t know the truth, and my lines are blurring. I’m telling you I’ve endured hell the last year and a half. I’ve lost pieces of myself while in Dresden’s clutches that I’ll never get back. But I’m also telling you that I didn’t betray my team, and no matter what happens, their safety is my number one priority. T
hat’s why you’re here right now, Ms. Redding. I’m a watcher, an information gatherer. It was my niche on the Endgame team, and it’s my niche with Dresden.”

  “What does that have to do with me?”

  “You were put on the radar a year ago by Vasily Savidge, Ms. Redding. He has known who you are for a while and has been waiting for the right time to use you.”

  Shock ghosted through Allie. All those last months in Africa, someone had known who she was—and she’d been out there alone, a sitting duck. She shivered, feeling footsteps over her grave. She wanted to do the things she wanted to do, but she didn’t want to die doing them.

  The knowledge she could be used against her father was always there. It was why he’d hidden her so deep. And now people knew. Bad people.

  “How did he find out who I was?”

  Ella shook her head. “That has eluded me. But someone knows, and all roads lead to the White.”

  Confusion banked Allie’s fear. “I don’t know what that means.”

  The sheets on the bed rustled, and Allie knew then King had heard everything.

  “Shut your mouth, Ella. Not another word.” King growled the command, and Ella did exactly as she’d been told. She shut the hell up.

  Allie glared at him, even as her heart thumped heavier. He was sitting now, his black sleeveless T-shirt hugging the heavy muscles of his chest and exposing his defined arms. Her mouth dried. He winced as he raised a hand to his head.

  Then he speared Ella with an icy, green look, and she lowered her head. He never met Allie’s eyes. It pissed her off.

  “Why stop now? Why not just tell me all of it?” she demanded.

  “You can’t handle the truth,” King told her bluntly. “Give me the Kimber, Allie.”

  “Go fuck yourself,” she responded acerbically.

  His gaze did rise then, and everything that was woman inside Allie sat up and took notice. His lids lowered slightly, and his cheeks went ruddy. Oh, he was pissed but at something else, something even more dangerous to Allie in that moment.