by Lexi Blake
Tag went on. “Kronberg has funded the majority of her vaccination campaign for the last few years. In exchange she gives them data on infection rates and vaccination protocols. She shares data so she can get drugs.”
That didn’t seem so bad to Ten. It seemed to him like she was working her connections to help people who couldn’t help themselves. “Good for her.”
Hutch huffed. “Good for The Collective.”
Ten didn’t want to hear that. The Collective was a group of corporations that seemed to have banded together to practice some of the worst crimes against the public he’d ever seen. The Collective consisted of some of the world’s biggest companies, and they maximized profits at the expense of anyone who got in their way. “Why do you think Kronberg is Collective?”
Hutch’s shoulders moved up and down in a negligent movement that belied the fact that the man never accused without some solid evidence. “You know it’s hard to tell. They don’t publish their rolls or make public their meetings. So we have to look at patterns of behavior and rely on gossip. Damon Knight is the head of McKay-Taggart’s London office.”
“I’m well aware.”
There was a knock on the door and then the man himself was stepping into the room. Damon Knight was a big bull of a man with pitch-black hair starting to gray at the temples. He was a broody son of a bitch. Well, he used to be. Now he was smiling and had a hand out as he stepped into the conference room followed by another man. This man wasn’t smiling. He was leaner than Knight or Tag, built on predatory lines. A hungry wolf with dark hair and a close-cropped beard. He looked over at Ten with icy blue eyes.
“How was your flight?” Tag asked, shaking Damon’s hand.
“It was commercial, you bastard,” Damon shot back with a chuckle.
“Sorry, buddy, I’m not MI6. If you want a company jet, you’re going to have to bring in some more cash,” Tag joked. “How’s Penny?”
Ten was fairly sure Knight was going to break his face if he kept smiling like that. “She’s already found Charlotte. She’s eager to meet your daughters. Especially now that she’s about to become a mum.”
Tag slapped Knight on the back. “Are you serious? You bastard, you didn’t say a thing.”
Knight waved a hand. “We wanted to wait a bit. She’s only a few months along, but it appears everything is going brilliantly. Never thought it would happen. Imagine us. Two old dads.”
They continued on as Hutch leaned in. “I do not get that. In my world, when a chick gets pregnant we all ask the dude how he managed to fuck up that badly. Wow. Erin looks hot. How is that possible? I finally see what Theo sees in her.”
“They are both pretty girls,” a low voice said behind him. A low, heavily accented voice. Ah, Knight had brought the Russian with him.
And the freaking Russian was staring at Ten’s girl. He slammed his laptop closed. His target. Not his girl. Still. He didn’t like the way the big bastard had stared at her.
“Are we breaking up?” Ten asked, well aware he sounded annoyed as hell. This wasn’t a fucking backyard barbecue family reunion.
“Sorry, he’s pissy since he lost his Agency spy decoder ring,” Tag said, gesturing for Knight and the new guy to take seats. “Please join us. We’ll catch up on the real life stuff after the people who don’t actually have one are safely out of here.”
Fuck Tag. Why the hell was he friends with that asshole anyway? Oh yeah, the loyalty stuff. Still sometimes he wished he’d won that fight between them and he still had several free punches left. He would appreciate Tag so much more if he could break the fucker’s nose on a regular basis. “First introduce the Russian and then tell me what The Collective has to do with Faith’s clinic.”
When everyone was settled he flipped his laptop back open. She’d sent another pic, this one of her staring at the camera and blowing him a kiss.
Good night, Sir.
Good night, Faith.
He closed the laptop again, not trusting himself to not stare at her pictures.
Knight sat down beside the new guy. “This is my latest employee, Nikolai Markovic. He’s former SVR.”
“It all still KGB. Don’t let new letters fool you.” The Russian sat back with a long-suffering sigh. Ten put his age around thirty, young to already be out of the game.
The KGB had officially disbanded back in 1991 after a failed coup had been led by the former director. The government had split the KGB up and formed the Foreign Intelligence Service. SVR or Sluzhba vneshney razvedki, was the organization that handled Russian intelligence operating outside the federation.
But Markovic was right. It was all still KGB. Putin had taken Russia right back to playing the old games.
Damn, Ten really missed the Agency.
“I was recruited young. My father, he was a paper pusher in the SVR. Smart man, but without many physical skills. He offered up me and my sister to be operatives. My sister died during a mission to Ukraine and then the bastards tried to send me in to finish her job.”
Ten could bet what that had been. “To stir up chaos in Crimea?”
Markovic nodded. “Yes, I am supposed to pose as Ukrainian soldier, to lead the revolution. My sister dies over gas pipelines. Putin is no leader. He is businessman. So now I am as well.”
Not if he was working for McKay-Taggart. There was a bit of bluster in the Russian, but he’d chosen a company known for taking on the occasional case simply for the rightness of the cause. They were also known for sometimes turning in the companies that employed them if they discovered they were grossly violating the law. Tag did it quietly, but the man believed in justice.
At the end of the day though, he didn’t really care why or how the Russian was here. It was a problem that he was here and not where he was supposed to be. “Shouldn’t you be working?”
Markovic’s lips curled up and suddenly his Russian accent completely disappeared. “You mean at the Jasper Bay Beach Club? I took some time off. I’m due back in three days. I’m in Florida checking on my elderly mother.”
Damn. The man was good. His American accent was perfect and when he lost the broody ennui that he seemed to wear like a coat, he could absolutely pass for a guy from Florida, another dude trying to make his way in the world. “All right. Did you come in for anything in particular?”
His shoulders fell and he was right back to his former bleakness. “Besides wanting to wash sand out of ass? I don’t understand the need to be at beach. Sand everywhere. I fuck one of McDonald’s maids. She thinks doing it on the beach is sexy. I have sand coming out ass for weeks.”
Tag laughed. “I take back what I said about his salary. He’s worth every penny. Please tell me more about sand in your ass.”
“Or you could tell us what you learned from screwing McDonald’s maid.” He really didn’t want to listen to more.
“McDonald talk a lot about his daughters. He says they work well together. She says he is proud that they are working on projects together. Also, I found out a bit about the layout of the house. McDonald’s office is actually outside of the main house and there is much security around it. We’ll have to have a hacker with us.”
Oh, that was like putting a big old X marks the spot on his treasure map. “Then that’s where he keeps the good stuff. Yes, I’m going to need to get into that building. Hutch, how do you like the beach?”
Hutch held up a hand. “Actually, I burn, boss.”
“Excellent. Now do we have any connections between Kronberg and Faith’s clinic? Because a donation of vaccinations only means Faith probably guilted her big sister into donating something she needed. And someone tell me why we believe The Collective is involved. I thought we’d cut the head off when the Brit offed the nerd.”
Knight started passing out reports. “I’ve been working on Kronberg. This is the pharmaceutical company that I’ve verified once did business with Eli Nelson. Who is also dead.”
“My pretty baby blew his ass up. It was her wedding present to me. She k
nows me well,” Tag explained with a smile.
“According to Charlotte, Nelson told her he’d worked for a company who hired him to eliminate the competition, so to speak,” Knight continued. “You’ll see I’ve compiled a case against Kronberg. At the same time Nelson claimed he was working with the pharmaceutical company, their direct rival’s over-the-counter pain reliever was caught in a criminal case involving cyanide-coated pills that had the Boston area and then the entire US in a complete panic. The rival’s drug was pulled from the shelves and Kronberg’s has enjoyed a swift bump in market share ever since. Nelson received a million dollars from an offshore account at roughly the same time. I’ve traced that account back to a subsidiary of Kronberg.”
It was enough for Ten to believe. Still, it didn’t mean Faith was involved. “Do you have direct proof that Hope McDonald is aware of The Collective? Ninety-nine point nine percent of all employees working for Collective companies have zero idea they’re slaves to the bad guys. And what real proof do you have that McDonald is working with The Collective?”
“Beyond the fact that you’re sitting here?” Tag shot back.
Big Tag was drawing lines without making real connections. He was letting his anger at The Collective and the way they’d targeted his family blind him to logic. “I will agree to the fact that McDonald has ties to the Agency and that he was obviously working with the bad guys. He made money off selling out troop movements to the enemy, which is exactly what I intend to prove by getting inside his hidey-hole. Everything else you’ve laid out is complete conjecture.”
“His daughter works for a known Collective company,” Knight explained.
Which proved nothing except that she had a job. “I need proof and not simply that she works somewhere. What’s her job at Kronberg?”
Tag looked through his notes. “She’s in research and development, but I don’t think they’ve got a Criminal Department. Come on. You know there are very few coincidences in the world. McDonald is dirty. If he’s in bed with one bad guy, he’s probably up for an orgy.”
“He likes the girl,” Markovic said. “He thinks if one sister is bad, both are. He’s probably right, but this is reason he requires more proof. He wants to believe pretty girl is good girl.”
The Russian was making him sound like some kind of lovesick teen. “I simply need more than some poorly drawn lines. I haven’t been in business for myself for years. I was trained to cross every T and dot every I before I brought justice down on someone because it was my butt on the line. I simply want the same level of confidence attached to this mission. I will have to present this to the Agency if I want my command back. I have to find out who McDonald’s Agency mole is and I need proof. If I also find proof that the McDonald sisters are working for a criminal enterprise, then I will take the whole family down. I’ll see them all in jail.”
He stood up because it looked like the informative portion of the meeting was over. It was time for him to move on and let Tag and Knight talk about babies and puppies and shit. He needed to prep for tomorrow.
“If that’s all you need me for, I could use the rest of the day to prep to meet with the target tomorrow,” he said.
Tag frowned but sat back. “All right. We’ll meet back here on Monday. Take tomorrow off if you need it. I’m going to debrief Markovic and I’ll send you a report. You bringing her to Sanctum Saturday?”
“That’s my plan. I’d like for her to meet Charlotte and particularly Eve. I’m interested in her personal profile,” Ten explained.
“You’ll have it. She’s ready. Are you?”
“To meet Faith? Of course. Thanks.” He stepped out.
He was ready. It was time for him to put aside all doubt. This mission was about to begin.
CHAPTER THREE
“I’ll be right there. I’m going to run and pick up some gloss,” Faith said as they stood in front of the restaurant. She glanced up at the sign. It was pretty and looked like someone had spent a lot of time hand painting it. Top. According to Erin, Theo’s brother owned the place. It was also where she was supposed to meet Master T in person for the first time.
So she needed some serious lip-gloss. She’d spied a Neiman Marcus half a block down the street, and they were a good twenty minutes early thanks to a shocking lack of traffic on the way from Erin and Theo’s pretty ranch house to downtown.
“I should come with you.” Erin looked back at the door where Theo had disappeared.
Faith shook her head. “No. I won’t be more than ten minutes. I bet the makeup counter is on the first floor. Please stay. I swear I’ll run in, use the mirror in the bathroom, and then I’ll run right back out. Order me something sweet to drink.”
For a second Erin looked like she would argue, but then she opened the door. “All right. But don’t get lost. Master T was very excited about finally getting to meet you.”
Which was precisely why she didn’t want zombie lips. She’d bought some makeup at the duty free store in DFW, but she was woefully out of touch. It wasn’t usually this hard. Her old Master was used to her being fairly low maintenance. He’d been a doctor, too.
The mysterious Master T worked in security, and by that she’d kind of figured out he was a bodyguard. It explained how he knew Theo and Theo’s brothers. Faith walked down the street at a crisp pace. Germany had been nice, but isolated. It was good to be back in the States. It was particularly good to be back in Texas. As she passed people on the street, most sent her a smile or tipped their heads in acknowledgment. It was something unique about the Southern United States. She’d been all over the world, but she always missed this.
She strode up the steps that led her inside the cool environs of Neiman Marcus. Immediately the world seemed to slow, becoming a more luxurious place. She might work at a charity, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the decadence of one of the world’s premier department stores.
This was her indulgence time. She wasn’t going to feel bad about anything for the next few weeks. She was going to use her credit cards and not worry about it.
She walked straight up to the makeup counter and started looking at colors.
“Can I help you?” A well-dressed clerk stepped up.
Faith smiled. “Can you make my lips look less tortured?”
Five minutes later, Faith was happy with the way the tinted gloss plumped her lips and made her look less like a woman who normally fought infectious tropical diseases for a living. She paid and was about to leave when her cell phone trilled. She pulled it out of her purse and checked the number. Her sister. Well, she knew she’d have to deal with her sometime. She slid her thumb across the screen, accepting the call.
“Hey, Hope.”
“Well, if it isn’t the warrior goddess.” Her sister’s rich laugh came over the line. “How does it feel to be home?”
“It’s good. You would be proud of me. I’m in Neimans right now.” It was actually good to hear her sister’s voice. It reminded her that there had been a time when they were close, when she’d actually wanted to be exactly like Hope. She’d gone into medical school following in her big sister’s footsteps.
“Seriously? Oh, we should go shopping while you’re here. I was calling because I want to see you. I’m going to be in Houston next week and I thought we could do a girl’s day. Spa, shopping, lunch, way too many cocktails.”
That sounded great. There was only one problem. “I’m actually in Dallas for the next few weeks.”
“Dallas? Why are you in Dallas?”
She was going totally casual with this answer. “I made a couple of friends while I was working. They live up here.”
“What about Roger?”
She sighed. She hadn’t wanted to get into her love life with her sister, but she supposed it was probably inevitable. “We broke up. I won’t be seeing him anymore.”
There was a pause on the line. “Well, that’s for the best. He was kind of skeevy. I mean I liked the fact that he was a doctor but god, you can do much bet
ter than a general surgeon. Hello, general is for people who can’t hack a specialty, if you know what I mean.”
Yeah. She was considered a general surgeon. Now she remembered why she avoided her sister. “Look, I have to run, sis. I actually have a date tonight.”
“Really? Well, it’s good. Get right back on the horse, so to speak. What’s his specialty? Tell me he’s an orthopedist. My current research is heavily invested in ortho. I could use someone to talk to at your party.”
“He’s a bodyguard.”
“I’m sorry. You’re breaking up. What did you say?”
God, her sister was such a snob. If a man didn’t have a doctorate, he wasn’t dating material. For Hope it wasn’t about money or society. It was all about skins on the wall. “He’s not a doctor. He works security and he’s very good at his job.”
She thought he was probably good at his job. He sounded like he was good. They’d talked to each other over the Internet, and she’d realized the man didn’t need to be good at anything. All he really needed to do was smile and women would fall all over him. Master T was a complete hottie.
Hence her need for properly glossed lips.
“A man working a fast food counter can be good at his job. That’s not a reason to date him. God, please tell me he isn’t into that stuff. The one good thing about you breaking it off with Roger is you can get away from all the nasty stuff.”
Her sister wasn’t with the sexually liberated age. And Faith kind of liked the nasty stuff. She’d spent weeks now thinking about doing nasty stuff with Master T. He’d agreed to her one real demand. He’d seemed perfectly happy to agree to monogamy while their contract lasted. He hadn’t even hesitated. “I’m going to be late. I’ll call you soon.”
Hope tried to say something else, but Faith cut her off. She didn’t need to explain this again. Hope didn’t take anything but her work and their father’s career seriously. She was never going to understand, but Faith couldn’t help but remember it had been Hope who had taken over after their mother had been killed. Hope had to grow up quickly and she’d taken good care of Faith. It bought her some patience.
