Barrage

by Lea Hart

  “One week and no more and I expect daily reports as to the progress of the investigation,” he said as he stood. “Don’t make me regret this.”

  Sam shook the director’s hand and then stepped back so Owen could do the same. Once Simon walked out of the office, he turned to Owen and gave him a high five. “Fucking right, we’re going to Brussels.”

  “I know Lucky’s trip lit a fire under your ass on making this happen, but I have to say, we didn’t bullshit the director on the importance of contacting our counterparts in Brussels. If there is even half a chance that Lucky can come up with something of value, then it’s worth it.”

  “I know Lucky will succeed if Griffin’s suspicions are correct. All she needs is a point of entry and then the sky is the limit.”

  “Let’s get to work and get this trip booked so we can get our asses over there.”

  “Roger that,” Sam replied as he picked up his things. He checked his watch and saw that it was only nine-thirty, which meant he had several hours of work to complete before he took Lucky to the airport.

  And now that he knew he was going to be a day behind her and would be in Brussels on Friday, he relaxed. Taking a deep breath, he knew they could handle whatever this trip produced as long as they were together.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Thursday, September 21st

  Brussels, Belgium

  Jet lag was no joke and the moment Lucky opened her eyes and saw sun pouring in through the windows, she realized she had no idea if she’d slept for a couple of hours or for a day. Lifting her arm, she checked her iWatch and saw she’d only slept for three hours, which meant it was three p.m. local time and ten a.m. her time.

  Collapsing back into her feather cocoon, she took a moment to look around her room and admire its beauty. There were original oil paintings on the walls and touches all over the room that indicated this was a family-owned hotel and not a corporate cookie-cutter one.

  Sitting up, she studied the large chair in the corner with its bright floral fabric and thought about Sam. Not that bright flowers made her think of the sexy beast, but what they’d done in chairs since they’d gotten together, did.

  He was an inventive and creative lover and she wondered if he’d always been that way or if it was a result of having a prosthetic. There was no missionary position on their menu and she didn’t know if there ever would be. Which was fine, because she’d never had better sex in her life.

  And it wasn’t just about Sam’s physical prowess and knowledge of how a woman’s body worked that made it so. It was, in fact, his insistence that they eliminate anything that separated them, and that included her shyness, fear of vulnerability, and walls she’d erected to protect her heart. He wanted all of her and was willing to do whatever it took to make that possible.

  Looking at the soft sunlight filtering into the room, she squinted her eyes and let the bright shafts fill her vision. Sam had her, hook line and sinker, and the illusion it was ever going to be different evaporated the same way the dust did as it floated through the room.

  She saw her watch light up and read the reminder that told her she hadn’t had any activity today and needed to close her activity ring. She hit the button and shook her head. “Not happening today, watch.” Deciding a shower was necessary, she crawled out of bed and texted Grif to say that she had arrived. She figured they’d get together for dinner later and get caught up. Other than the phone call they’d had the other day, they hadn’t talked much, and she had no idea if he was able to discover anything further.

  Her cell phone vibrated, and she picked it up to see she had a facetime call from Stazi. Sliding the bar, she accepted the call and saw her best friend’s face, and immediately knew she was pissed. “Hey, Stazi, why do you look like you want to start yelling?”

  “Because my best friend didn’t tell me she was going to Brussels, but my boyfriend did.”

  Seeing Stazi’s narrowed eyes made her collapse back onto the bed because she knew the conversation was going to take some time. “Sorry, it’s been a whirlwind and I didn’t have a chance.”

  “All right, I’ll let it go, but the next time you skip off to a foreign country to go after a Russian mobster, I expect to be informed.”

  Letting out a laugh, she nodded. “Absolutely.”

  “Is Sam Barton your lover there yet or is he coming in later?”

  “You know, you can just call him Sam and leave the designation of lover out.”

  Stazi waggled her finger into the screen. “No way, what fun would that be?”

  “Sam didn’t say he was coming when he drove me to the airport yesterday, so I’m not expecting him.”

  “I bet he’s going to surprise you. No way would he leave you there without protection.”

  “I don’t need protection because all I’m doing is my regular computing gig.” The raised eyebrow Stazi gave her was a sentence all on its own because it managed to convey incredulity without her saying a thing. “Really, just a low-key trip. No big deal.”

  Snorting, Stazi moved her face closer to the screen. “You should’ve left your dignity with me because you’re about to do some sketchy s.h.i.t., add to that the fact that you’re in close proximity to the pakhan you’ve been obsessed with since May, God knows what’s about to happen.”

  “There are over a million people living here; it’s not like we’re going to run into one another at the local coffee shop, and I haven’t done anything remotely sketchy in years.”

  “That’s debatable.”

  “You overestimate my zealotry.”

  “Ha! I’ve known you since kindergarten and I’m well acquainted with what happens when you get focused on something and can’t let go.”

  “Please, don’t compare my obsession with meeting Adam Levine and Matchbox Twenty to this.”

  “But it would make me so happy if I could.”

  “No. Be nice to me and pretend like you trust my judgment.” Seeing Stazi’s eyes get big, she realized she might’ve hurt her feelings. “I’m sorry; that wasn’t nice.”

  “No, it wasn’t and I’m going to assume you’re snippy because you’re tired and missing your man. Not to mention the semi-sketchy hacking you’re going to be doing over the next week or so.”

  Letting her shoulders droop, she nodded. “All true.”

  “I love you, friend, and I want you to be safe.”

  “I know, and I will be.”

  Stazi tilted her head and gave her a smile. “Go take a shower and then get something to eat.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I want you to eat a lot of fries while you’re there and tell me if they’re any different than what we have here.”

  “That will be easy.”

  “Now that I’ve seen your face and chastised you for not keeping me in the loop, I’m done and will let you go and get on with your day.”

  “Love you; don’t worry about me because all I’m going to be doing is hanging out with Grif and working my tail off.”

  “Give him a hug for me and call me when you get home.”

  “I will.” Stazi blew her a kiss and then ended the call. Laying back on the bed, she looked at the ceiling and hoped Grif was right and she would have a chance to infiltrate Vazov’s operation.

  It was a hell of a long shot, but if it was true, it could be the difference between shutting him down and not.

  And the not wasn’t something she wanted to consider as a possibility.

  ***

  Sitting on a beautiful pumpkin-colored settee in the bar at the Manos Hotel, Lucky decided she was ready to move in. The warm colors on the walls, dark wood, and paintings created an inviting space that she never wanted to leave. Add to that the perfect Manhattan she’d just been served, and she was pretty much in heaven.

  Looking around, she noticed the elegant couples that were engaged in conversation and missed Sam’s company instantly. It would be fun to experience a city like Brussels together, and she wondered if they’d ever ha
ve the chance or inclination to travel together.

  She’d done so much of it when she and Grif had been security guns for hire that she’d actually burned out on being in a different city each week and had spent the last two years in the U.S.

  Hearing her name, she looked up and saw Grif heading in her direction. “Hi,” she called out as she stood. When he was close enough, they exchanged a warm hug and then she held him at arm’s length and studied him. “You look beat.”

  “Thanks,” he replied as he collapsed on the settee. When the waitress approached, he ordered a drink and then sat back. “I’ve had three fourteen-hour days in a row and it’s kicking my ass.”

  “We’re not as young as we used to be and sitting in front of a keyboard all day isn’t as easy as it once was. Is the client serious about security or are they just going through the motions, so they can report to their board of directors that they’ve complied?”

  “It’s a privately held bank and the man who owns it is deadly serious because he’s just realized he allowed the wrong man to open accounts.”

  “Sounds like there have been some developments.”

  “Monumental, Lucky.”

  “Should we wait for your drink to be delivered?”

  “Yes.”

  The waiter came by and, once Grif had it in his hand, he lifted it. “Here’s to staying out of the eye of the storm.”

  Lucky tapped his glass and then took a sip. “And here I thought this was going to be easy.”

  “How does the fed feel about your extracurricular activities?”

  “Sam wasn’t excited, but he understands what this could mean, so he kept his arguments civil.”

  “Is it serious between you two or what?”

  Looking up, she nodded. “Seems it could be.”

  “I thought that might happen when I spoke with him at SAI after we cracked the hack. He looked at you like you’re the best thing he’d ever seen and had plans to hold on tight.”

  “It’s just the beginning, but it’s going well.”

  “I think that’s a huge understatement, but I’ll leave it be.”

  She patted his leg and looked around the room. “Tell me about the client and what you discovered.”

  “Nice change of subject,” he replied as he adjusted his legs. “Martin Wouter is the owner of a private bank called Societe Generale. They offer investment advice as well as all the other services you’d expect from a financial institution.”

  “Are they legit or is it a shell company?”

  “I don’t know that I would be able to tell the difference, but they have all the ingredients of a legitimate business, with a brick and mortar location, staff, and customers. I’ve been on the executive floor of the building for a week and everything I’ve seen suggests it’s the real deal.”

  “And you think Anton Vazov does business with them?”

  “I know he does because he came in and had a meeting with Mr. Wouter that ended in a shouting match. I was walking out of the IT office and saw Vazov storm out of Martin’s office with a red face and a phone stuck to his ear. Then, moments later, Martin showed up and requested that I nominally freeze all transactions going through accounts associated with Vazov’s companies.”

  “When you say, ‘nominally freeze,’ does that mean using the program we wrote years ago in the gulf where the customer thinks things are moving in and out but, in fact, the bank is holding everything?”

  “Exactly. There are over a hundred accounts between the two companies and they’re averaging over fifty transactions daily. I’d say that’s some serious cash being laundered.”

  “I’d have to agree.” Playing with her napkin, she twisted the corners into knots. “Does it seem like Martin knew what he was getting into?”

  “I have no idea because I don’t know how well known Vazov’s activities are to the general public.”

  “That’s a good point since up until last spring, I was blissfully unaware of the top Russian mobsters.”

  “I think that’s true of most people.” Grif drained his drink and then looked around the room. “You can start digging tomorrow, but first we have to start installing the classic dual-wise weapons we’ve been putting in for years. I don’t know if Martin knew all along what he was getting into and is just now panicking or if he was duped. Either way, there’s no reason to tip our hand.”

  “Not a problem, are we working through the weekend or are we working banking hours?”

  “Extended banking hours since it’s privately held. Martin usually works until eight, so I work right up until the minute he’s ready to go. As much as I enjoy my time in Brussels, I have no desire to string out the trip any longer than necessary.”

  “That’s a switch, Grif. You’ve always been willing to hang out for as long as necessary, what’s changed?” She noticed his lack of eye contact and knew there was something he wasn’t comfortable sharing and the only time that ever happened was when it was about a woman. “You’ve met someone.”

  “It’s nothing that I’m ready to talk about.”

  “That means she’s got you twisted into a little pretzel and you’re doing everything you can to fight it.” When he turned and she saw how he was suffering, she knew it wasn’t anything she could tease him about. “If you want to talk about it, then I’m here and believe me I know how weird that sounds, considering our history, but I want you to be happy. Above all else—I want you to have everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

  “When and if I need some advice, you’d be the first person I would come to because, despite your aversion to romantic and sappy things, I actually think you understand a true and faithful heart.”

  Leaning her head against his shoulder, she let out a sigh. “I sometimes wonder if someone is ever going to know me as well as you do.”

  “Sam probably will if you ever let him past that hard-crunchy shell you like to show people. Hell, for all I know, he’s already cracked the damn thing and made his way into your soft caramel center.”

  “He’s working on it,” she replied quietly. Actually, he’d done a lot more than that, but she figured if she denied it for a bit longer she wouldn’t curl into a cold ball of fear at the idea of letting him in. The waiter brought them another round of drinks and Lucky decided it might be a good idea to get something to eat before she fell over. “I hear the restaurant’s lovely, why don’t we take our drinks in there and grab some dinner?”

  Standing, he looped his bag over his shoulder and held out his hand. “Come on, woman, let’s get you fed because we can’t have you showing up tomorrow all ratty and hungover. I told Martin that I was bringing in the second-best consultant I knew and you showing up like death won’t sell that idea.”

  Lucky stood and smirked. “The whole second-best thing is highly debatable.”

  “We can do that over dinner.”

  She followed him out of the bar and glanced at her phone to see if Sam had returned her message. When she saw nothing had come in, she wondered why he hadn’t responded. Deciding she couldn’t add it to her list of worries, she shook off the bad feeling and decided she was going to enjoy a lovely dinner in a beautiful city with her friend, and not obsess if Sam was an out-of-sight-out-of-mind type of guy.

  Nothing she could do about it, either way, so she might as well focus on the opportunity in front of her.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Friday, September 22ND

  As Sam stepped out of the taxi, he buttoned up his coat and enjoyed the brisk fall weather. It gave him the shot of energy he needed after flying all night and, along with the shower and meal they’d just grabbed, he felt like he was ready to get down to work.

  Owen climbed out of the taxi after paying and joined him in front of the black gates that protected the embassy building. Nodding to the security detail, he walked up, pulled out his identification, and looked up at the cameras that were mounted next to the American seal that topped the gates. He and Owen waited patiently while the Marines ran the
ir faces through a facial recognition program and, once they were allowed through, they passed through an x-ray machine and then presented their credentials once again.

  It was never a quick process and he’d learned long ago that the best thing to do was relax as they went through the motions. Between his prosthetic and the gun he carried, the process was prolonged by at least thirty minutes as everything was inspected and the DDTC export license for the firearm he carried was reviewed.

  Once they were cleared and the FBI legat was notified they’d arrived, he and Owen were finally on the elevator. “That wasn’t as painful as it could’ve been,” Sam commented as the doors closed.

  “They knew we were coming and that helped.”

  They walked off the elevator and went through another set of security clearances and were finally inside the bustling offices of the FBI legal attaché. A tall well-dressed man strode toward them with a friendly smile and Sam assumed it was Theo James, the man he’d been in contact with for the last several days.

  “You both look American, so I’m assuming you’re Agent Barton and Agent Kendrick.”

  “Guilty,” Sam said as he stretched out his hand. “Thanks for having us, Theo.”

  “Happy to work with you both,” he responded as he shook Sam’s hand and then Owen’s. “Come on back to the conference room and we can get started.”

  “Something interesting going on, or is this the usual hustle and bustle?” Owen asked as they walked down the hall.

  “This is pretty much how it always is. We’ve got a small staff and a lot of work, so we’re always running and gunning.”

  “Makes sense, considering Brussels is the de-facto home to the European Union, NATO, and a host of transnational criminal organizations,” Sam said as they walked into a conference room. “Can’t imagine business ever slowing down.”

  “Lots of job security,” Theo replied. “The woman hunched over her laptop is Julia Foster.”