by Lexi Blake
So Ezra Fain had managed to get here in time for the party. Brody hadn’t been sure the CIA operative would make it. When they’d realized they knew where Steph was being held, Taggart had called on Fain, making a deal to get backup. Fain and a team had been on a plane from DC and had only recently landed.
Fain would be more than pleased to get a man like de Vries in the hot seat, giving up secrets about how outside businesses were working against US interests and citizens abroad.
De Vries’s group turned, realizing they were trapped.
“I don’t believe you. You couldn’t have had time to plan this,” de Vries said.
Tag snorted. “I am a planner, asshole. And as I plan to be at my friend’s birthday party soon, why don’t you drop those guns and we’ll take you in nice and easy.”
Brody kept his sights on the mercenaries, fairly certain Fedor’s men had no interest in a two-sided fight. He knelt down beside Tucker. He was the only one close enough to get a hand on the bloke. “Come on now, then. It’s time to get you away from here.”
Tucker moved, but not in the right direction. He paid zero attention to Brody, stepping toward the Belgian group. “What’s my name?”
De Vries wasn’t taking his eyes off the real threat. If he heard Tucker, he didn’t let anyone know. “We can make a deal, Taggart.”
“That time is over,” Big Tag replied. “I’m no longer the man who controls your fate. Talk to the CIA, buddy.”
Tucker looked over at Tag. “He knows my name. He might be the only person in the world who knows my name.”
Taggart nodded. “And Mr. White will get that out of him. I promise you, Tucker.”
“I know all the terrible things you’ve done, Razor. What kind of game are you playing?” de Vries asked. “Are you trying to hide from the authorities? What happened to the doctor you were working with? Now, Taggart, if you want a truly evil person, you should talk to Razor’s lover, Dr. Hope McDonald. He’s the one you should hand over to the Agency. He’s the one who can show you all the terrible things they’ve done together.”
“No. No. No.” Tucker’s hands went to his head as if he was hearing some terrible sound no one else could. An animalistic cry came out of his mouth, the sound jarring Brody to motion.
Oh, god. Brody felt sick to his stomach. Tucker had worked with McDonald? He was the kindest of all the men who’d had their lives destroyed. What had happened? Had McDonald turned on her lover? Or had he realized that time was up and taken the only way out that didn’t include death or prison?
How would he handle it if he found out he’d been an evil son of a bitch in a life he didn’t even remember?
Tucker buckled over, clutching at his head. It was part of the drug and the conditioning the doctor had given them. When they tried to think too hard, tried to remember, pain flared through their systems. He’d seen a couple of the Lost Boys throw up and shake for hours after the pain came.
De Vries looked at Tucker and seemed to realize this was the distraction he’d been praying for. He shouted something to his men that Brody didn’t understand. What he did understand was the gunfire suddenly coming his way.
Brody leapt toward Tucker, who seemed utterly incapable of moving. He knocked the man over and felt his breath blow out of his body as he took a hit. Hurt like fuck, but he knew immediately that the bullet hadn’t pierced the armor Tag insisted on everyone wearing. He was better equipped than the damn mercenaries who had managed to get their guns and ammo here in the States, but hadn’t bothered with body armor.
Tag had forced anyone on the ground to dress in full-out tactical gear. Brody had dreaded the extra weight, but now it came in handy as the bullets started to fly.
He needed cover.
“Get him to the side.” Fedor stepped in front of him, firing off a few shots as everyone seemed to scramble.
Brody got to his knees, getting a hand on Tucker’s shirt. “Come on!”
Tucker’s head came up, his eyes not quite focused. “Leave me.”
“Not on your life.” He didn’t care what the lad had done before. Brody knew who he was now. Hell, they didn’t know anything at all. De Vries could be lying through his teeth for all they knew. Now wasn’t the time to figure things out. He needed to stash Tucker somewhere so he could get on to the work of the day—killing de Vries or making his life a living hell. One of the two.
“Move it,” Fedor ordered. “I’ve already taken a hit. I’m getting my men out of here in a few minutes. I don’t want trouble with Taggart.”
So he would try to make sure Tucker didn’t get them both killed. Brody looked up, glancing around the room. His best bet was ten feet to his left. There was what looked like a long row of almost ceiling-high crates.
He looked back and Taggart and O’Donnell had taken up positions, while the snipers seemed to be doing their jobs. Remy, Shane, and Declan were up in the rafters, using their skills to pick off de Vries’s men one by one.
Brody got to his feet, twisting in order to lay down some cover fire of his own. His chest ached, his ribs tender after the bullet he took.
One, two, three shots and he sprinted toward the safety of the maze of boxes. He hauled Tucker along by his shirt, praying the damn thing was well made because he wasn’t sure what he would do if it came apart in his hands.
All around him gunfire split the air. “Paradise City” became “Welcome to the Jungle” as Brody pulled Tucker deeper into the maze.
“Let me take him, mate.” Alfi was suddenly at his side. His shirt sleeve was torn and blood soaked the material.
Damn it. “Why didn’t you stay back?”
“Because I bloody well don’t deserve to be safe when my best mate is out here near dying,” Alfi shouted back. He pointed to the west side of the building. “De Vries managed to send a couple of men up the stairs. They’re going up to take out the snipers and then you’ll be a sitting duck.”
Brody watched the black-clad mercenary sneaking up the stairs. The bad guy hugged the back wall, but dropped to one knee and brought up the AK-47 he was holding. It wasn’t a sniper rifle, but it would do.
And it was pointed straight at him. Fuck.
Alfi stepped in front of him like a complete moron, since he wasn’t wearing a damn vest.
Before he could shove Alfi away, a shot cracked through the air. The Belgian’s head flew back, his body hitting the wall, and he went down.
Thank god for snipers.
“What the hell was that? Why would you do that?” Brody looked around, trying to see if anyone else had a line on them.
“I don’t know,” Alfi shouted back, frowning ferociously. “I guess I’m just stupid, but I know I’m not going to be the reason you die. I’ll take Tucker, or you take him and I’ll hold the line.”
Tucker had somehow managed to make it to his feet. “He knows my name. I have to talk to him.”
This was why the Lost Boys weren’t allowed in the damn field. “You’ll go with Alfi. I have to work my way back and make sure none of those fuckers gets close to where Steph is. Go with him. No excuses or I’ll knock you out and he can carry you.”
Taggart’s voice came over his comm line. “Carter, we’ve got them all except de Vries. Can’t see him and the comms are out with the boys above. I can’t get info from them. It looks like he’s in the maze, brother. On your side. Li’s coming in after you. Don’t shoot him.”
Shit. His best bet was getting back out the same way Li was coming in. He couldn’t engage de Vries as long as he had two civilians to protect. He couldn’t be sure this close to the side of the building that the snipers would have a shot. “We’re heading back out.”
“I’ll take him,” Alfi said, hauling Tucker up with his good side.
Li moved around the corner. “Brody, I need you with me. De Vries slipped in here somewhere and we can’t see him. I’ve got Erin on the other side and Theo and Case are taking the south end. I have no idea how the fucker got by us.”
“Where�
��s Steph?” If Erin wasn’t with her, had she run?
“Alex got grazed,” Li said shortly as he started to move past Brody. “The last time I checked, she was stopping the bleeding. It’s not a big deal, but we brought Shane and Dec down to help wrap up the ones left alive for Ezra.”
He nodded back at Alfi, who started to lead Tucker away, and then followed Li. “Where the hell is Ezra? I would have thought he would come in by now.”
“No idea. Hope he didn’t get stuck in traffic. Tag will have his arse.” Li moved down the big aisle toward the far end of the building.
Brody touched the comm. “Alex, I need you to watch Steph for me. Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“She’s fine,” Li insisted.
“She’s working on one of the Ukrainians.” Alex’s voice came over the comm. “We’ve got more than a few dead Belgians, but the Ukrainians came out of it with two GSWs. One’s pretty serious, but Steph thinks she can stop the bleeding.”
Steph was certain she could save the world, even if it killed her. “I need you to keep eyes on her.”
Liam rounded the corner. “Shit. What the hell happened?”
Brody stopped, his body going cold as he heard a familiar voice. He couldn’t see what Li was seeing.
“I thought he was hurt,” Steph said, her voice shaking.
Shit and shit. He was going to kill them all.
“Let her go and I’ll walk away,” Li offered.
Oh, but that wasn’t going to work. There was no way de Vries gave up his prize.
“I’m going to step out the back door and get into my car. I think I’ll keep my nice shield for now,” de Vries replied.
Brody took off running, his hand on his comm. “Keep him talking, Li. I’m going around.”
Li wouldn’t be able to reply over the line, but Brody was sure he’d heard.
“I’m on my way,” Taggart said over the line. “Someone get outside in case he takes the doc out of the building.”
Brody couldn’t think of anything but getting to her. He ran down the way he’d come, sprinting past Alfi and Tucker. He hit the open floor, barely registering the fact that there were bodies on there. He caught a glimpse of Fedor and his men, all of them having given up their guns, while Case and Theo were ensuring the living Belgians were all zip tied and behaving.
Brody followed the blue line. They’d been in hiding for hours, going still and silent while the Ukrainians were occupied and staying in place. Perfectly silent and hidden for three hours before de Vries had shown up. While he’d waited, he’d found a map and studied that sucker. The blue line led to the loading dock at the back of the building. That was where de Vries would take her.
Brody rounded the last row. He could hear the sound of feet pounding behind him, but he doubted de Vries would hear it over the rock and roll. Another of Big Tag’s little touches. That was the big boss. The things he did seemed arrogant, but they almost always served a purpose in the end.
Of course, he also had been trying to cover the sound of gunfire so the Agency didn’t have to deal with the local cops.
It didn’t matter why he’d thought of it. All that mattered was getting to Steph and saving her.
Again. For the last time.
“He’s almost to the door.” Li’s voice came over the comm.
“Brody, you need to flank him,” Taggart said.
And then he came into view. De Vries was dragging Steph along, her petite body held against his beefy one. Brody could see how his arm snaked around her waist right under her breasts, holding her so tight he couldn’t see how she was breathing. Her feet were dangling and he could see the way she struggled against de Vries.
“Stop.” Brody roared the command over the music that had covered his footsteps.
“Alex, cut the music,” Taggart was saying behind him. “We’re going to need to negotiate. And get Ezra on the goddamn line. He’s late.”
De Vries stopped as the music died and the whole building suddenly went quiet.
“Let the girl go.” Brody tried to get a decent shot, but de Vries was holding her over his chest, protecting his neck with her head. He might be able to get a head shot, but if he was off even a few centimeters, he could kill the mother of his child.
“Somehow, I don’t think this is going to happen, my friend. If you think for a second that I believe you’re turning me over to the Agency, you’re insane. Or if you are and they’ve got that psycho on the payroll, well, I’d rather die than be at Dr. Razor’s tender mercies.”
“He’s not who you think he is,” Brody said tightly. If de Vries would move a centimeter back…
“I know that man. I’ve seen what he can do,” de Vries promised. “And I won’t allow you to turn me over to him. Or his lover.”
“Hope McDonald is dead,” Taggart explained in a steady tone. “And the man you know as Razor isn’t the same man you met before. I know it doesn’t make sense, but I give you my word. I’m turning you over to the Agency. I won’t say Mr. White won’t hurt you a little, but he’s not a psychopath. You’ll be able to cut a deal with him. Let the doctor go and we’ll sit down and talk.”
“No one sits down and talks with that psycho.” De Vries’s eyes flicked between Brody and O’Donnell. “Now move away or I’ll kill her. I swear I will do it. I’ll take her down with me.”
“Brody, please.” Steph turned her face toward him, her eyes desperate.
Please what? Please let her go? Please save her? How could he ever know with her?
It didn’t matter. He had to save her.
“Take the shot if you have it,” Li growled.
De Vries turned and there it was. One shot. One second of opportunity before he lost it again.
Brody breathed out, seeing the place he wanted to hit—a small patch of skin above the mercenary’s ear. The bullet would go to his brain, shutting down everything before de Vries could make another move.
He pulled the trigger.
Please. Please. Please.
De Vries’s head jerked to the side and Steph was suddenly free.
She was alive. De Vries was dead, but Steph was alive.
He had to force himself to stand there, to not immediately go to her or he would be on his knees.
One of them had to be strong.
“Damn it, Taggart,” a familiar voice yelled. Ezra Fain strode in, a frown on his handsome face. “I told you I need them alive—that meant all of them. At least most. I’ve got four alive and one of them pissed his damn pants.”
Tag pointed a finger his way. “Next time, don’t freaking be late. I had to bluff and I hate bluffing. Now I have to go. I’m supposed to pick up the stupid cake. Why does Jake need a cake? He’s getting pudgy around the middle.”
“You are not going anywhere,” Ezra began.
They began arguing, bickering like an old married couple, but Brody was numb. He turned and started to walk away.
“Brody?” Steph’s voice made him stop.
It didn’t make him turn around. “You should check on Alfi and Tucker. I think they’re going to need you.”
He walked away. It was time to go home.
Chapter Sixteen
“So you found the thumb drive?” Hours later, Avery stood in the big kitchen of Serena Dean-Miles’s main house, making her famous grilled corn dip, across from where Steph sat with Nate in her arms. “And it was in Nate’s diaper bag?”
“I love that,” Serena said with a grin. “The whole time it was sandwiched between wipes and butt cream.”
“It fell into one of the pouches. I never zip the inside pouches.” Steph had been giving the women the rundown of how the mission had gone. It was good to have something to do rather than brood over Brody. “When Alfi told me he’d tossed it in the backseat of the Jeep, I remembered that the diaper bag had come open and I’d just stuffed everything back in.”
Serena groaned. “I hate when that happens. I’ll perfectly organize it all and Tristan will somehow get in th
at sucker and pull out everything. He’s fascinated with Brianna’s things. You’ll see, Avery. You think you’re out of the baby stage with Aidan, but toddlers require an enormous amount of stuff, too. Did you find the drive and pass it along to the Agency?”
She shook her head. “I told Li and he and Big Tag decided to figure out what was on it first.”
“Ah, that’s why they brought Adam up to the office,” Serena said with a smile. “He was grumbling the whole time about how someone needs to figure out how to use a computer before they start the new business. I told him Hutch would take over for him but he’s out of town this weekend.”
“So what was it?” Avery asked, curiosity plain on her face. “I’ve been dying to know what that group was willing to kill so many people over.”
“It was a video,” she said, rocking Nate gently. “The journalist had smuggled it out of a diamond mine owned by one of the world’s largest companies. Do you know what the Kimberley Process is?”
“No idea,” Avery admitted.
Serena gasped, her eyes lighting up. “I do. I wrote this book about conflict diamonds. Well, it’s mostly about a three way, but conflict diamonds were in there.”
“That’s right.” Avery nodded. “I remember. The conflict diamonds were being smuggled out of the country disguised as bling on the backs of women’s jeans.”
Serena picked up a jar of paprika. “I thought it was a fun twist. Isn’t the Kimberley Process a way the governments decide if a diamond is conflict free?”
She understood some of it. “Yes, all the legitimate diamond merchants of the world have an agreement that they will only purchase raw diamonds from mines that don’t fund wars. It’s worked quite well to get most conflict diamonds out of the public. But our poor journalist discovered that a merchant out of Antwerp had cut a deal with a terrorist group to purchase over twelve million dollars worth of raw diamonds. On paper, they’d come from a reputable mine, but Johann Kavner had the proof.”
The terrorist group was known for slaughtering entire villages in central and eastern Africa if the populace refused to follow their narrow version of religious law. They’d also made headlines for stealing young girls to gift to their soldiers. It hadn’t come as a surprise to Steph that they would trade in diamonds they had used slave labor to produce.
