by Geri Foster
“He will die, and the White House will be destroyed. But my lifelong dream will also come true. The man who destroyed my family, who shot my mother and sister in the back as they ran for safety, will finally die.”
“Which man do you speak of?”
Preston grinned. “You will learn soon enough.”
On the east side of Baltimore, Tony and Brody entered a restaurant and went straight to the back. No one stopped them, but they were both prepared should anyone be foolish. The Damascus was a well-known hangout for the Albanian cartel. Tony knew he was in the right place when he smelled the fruity aroma of rakija, a native Albanian drink.
Drita Cana, the second in command, stepped in front of Tony. “You got some nerve showing your face here.” His lips twisted into a mean snarl. “I should kill you.”
Tony smirked. “Go ahead and toss your hat into the ring. Plenty of men have,” he held out his arms, “but as you can see, I’m still very much alive; and going to kick your ass if you don’t get out of my way.”
“Sergio will kill you for sure.” He looked him and Brody up and down. “Maybe he’ll let me do the honor.” He grinned an evil smile. “I’ll start with your friend here. It would be my pleasure.”
Brody shoved him aside. “Fuck off.”
The man reached to pull his weapon, but Brody beat him to the draw. With his Sig stabbed beneath the man’s chin, Brody growled, “You don’t listen very well, do you?”
Grabbing him by the collar, Brody dragged him with them as they moved further into the restaurant. Brody released him and motioned with his gun for the guy to follow Tony, Brody brought up the rear. Tony observed everyone in the place. One wrong move and there would be a bloodbath. Every man there itched for a fight, especially with the two Falcon agents.
They reach the back door and Tony kicked it open, his gun drawn. Sergio jumped up to get his own weapon but couldn’t reach it in time. Brody shoved Drita inside the room and slammed the door.
Sergio Malakoff had packed on more weight since the last time Tony had seen him and his mustache practically covered his mouth. He rarely bathed, ate like a pig, and killed for the fun of it.
“I’m not here to kill anybody.” Tony glanced down at Sergio’s missing little finger. “I don’t even want to pull the trigger.”
“Then what do you want?”
“Information,” Tony said. “I need to talk to you about Jim Douglas.”
Sergio snarled. “Who?” He dropped back into his oversized chair. “Never heard of the guy. You’ve come to the wrong place, Falcon.”
Tony knocked everything off the corner of the desk and sat on its edge. He pointed the gun at Sergio. “I’d like to stick around and play games,” Tony said nodding down at Sergio’s right hand, “but I don’t have time. Not now, this is too serious. We know you sold weapons to Jim Douglas and we know he had a contract with El Hashem to buy them. My question is who is your American contact?”
Sergio shook his head. “I tell you everything you arrest me, I go to jail. Not the way I want to spend the rest of my life.”
Brody leaned against the wall. “Then you should have chosen a different line of work. Prison is your retirement plan.”
Tony shrugged. “For right now, all I want is the name of the American.”
“I know nothing.”
Tony thumbed off the safety and held his gun against Sergio’s head. “The last time we got into a disagreement I only shot off a finger. This time I might kill you.”
Sergio grinned. “If I remember correctly, you now have a four-inch scar on your left side. My knife was sharp and true.”
“Barely a scratch. I played golf the next day with the Secretary of State.” Tony narrowed his eyes. “You?”
Sergio rubbed his hand, a sure sign that the missing finger still bothered him. “Go ahead and kill me, I have nothing to lose.”
“Nothing but your life.” Tony glanced away, rubbing his top lip. “So, you’ll miss your daughter’s graduation in May and the birth of a new grandchild in June.” Tony gritted his teeth. “You want to miss all that, Sergio?”
Sergio shrugged. “I don’t even know why you are here. I have nothing for you.”
Tony’s face brightened, he knew something Malakoff didn’t. “So, you don’t know that three of your men are dead?”
“You lie, Archuleta.” Sergio spread out his arms. “All my men are here.” He laughed. “All accounting.”
“Accounted for, boss,” Drita corrected.
“Shut up,” Sergio shouted back. He glared at Tony. “All my men are accounted for.”
“What about Ditmir, Edvin, and Gjon? I guess you haven’t heard they were found dead in Jim Douglas’s office earlier this morning. We’re thinking that Clyde Stupas shot them. You remember him, don’t you? He killed your brother, if I remember correctly.” Sergio’s face darkened and his hands fisted. “Or maybe Jim killed them. We’re not sure exactly how it went down.”
“When did you find this out?”
“The bodies were at Douglas’s gun range, in his office and right at the entrance to a rather large vault. I’m thinking you sent Ditmir to collect the money Douglas owed you for the weapons and ran into a bit of unexpected trouble. And you, my friend, have a bigger problem. You never got your money and the weapons are gone.”
Sergio thought for a while. “You are sure of this?”
“As positive as I am the sun is going to rise tomorrow. Now, answer my question. Who was the American?”
“I know nothing about any American.” Sergio shoved back in his chair. “Douglas didn’t even tell me his buyer was one of those Buddhists.”
“You mean Muslims,” Drita coached. Sergio glared at him and his second in command lowered his head and lifted a shoulder. “Sorry, boss.”
“Muslims, I don’t like them. I made a few calls and the weapons were delivered. That asshole was supposed to pay me the next day, as soon as the buyer saw the merchandise.” Sergio harrumphed. “Douglas did not hold up his end of the bargain. Now, you say that three of my men are dead?” Sergio growled. “Douglas should be glad he’s dead.”
“You’re sure you didn’t hear the name of an American mentioned?”
Sergio shook his head. “Not once.”
Tony pointed his finger. “I’m warning you. I hear that you went after another American, I’m going to know you’re lying to me.” He casually waived his gun around. “Then Brody and I are going to come back here and there will be no more Albanian Mafia.” He looked around. “Hell, there won’t even be a building.”
“I give you my word. Other than Douglas, I know nothing about an American. But I would like to get my money back.”
“Chalk that up to the cost of doing business with people like Douglas.” Tony winked. “They’re not very reliable.”
Janice looked into Harry Berger’s hungry eyes and knew exactly what the bastard wanted—in her pants. And obviously he wasn’t too particular about how he got there. She hadn’t liked him the first day she started, and her opinion hadn’t changed.
“What can I do for you, Harry?”
“I thought it may be more like what I could do for you. After all, you’re the one who’s so curious about what the boss is up to. I’m just wondering what you’re willing to do to find out.”
“And who says I’m that curious?”
Uninvited, he sat on the edge of her desk and crossed his arms. “Look here, sweet cheeks. I’ve been watching you since the day you got here. I can spot a narc from a mile away. You’re with a federal agency, aren’t you?”
She burst out laughing and pointed to his office. “All that porn is decaying your brain. That’s rich, Harry. And even if I was, do you really think I would just come out and say so? Not overly bright, Harry.”
“I know more than you think. As a matter of fact, I may have just the information you need. What do you think about that?”
“I think you’re full of shit, Harry. You don’t even know what you’re talk
ing about. You barely know your job.”
Janice wanted him out of her face, off her desk, and out of her office. She pushed away from her desk, ready to stand up and tell him to leave. Harry raised a brow and smirked. “I know you’re wondering where he went today. I also know you’re curious about what was in his briefcase? How about all that money he has in those offshore accounts, curious about those, too. Aren’t you?”
One thing was certain...she had seriously underestimated the man. Harry had been paying attention and he knew exactly what she needed to know. Now she needed a clever way to get the information without giving herself away. She couldn’t afford that. Her boss would be none too happy if the entire op was blown.
Sitting back in her chair, she crossed her legs and studied her fingernails. “Keep talking. I’m listening.”
Harry stood up, turned, and walked toward the door. With his hand on the knob he glanced over his shoulder. “I give away nothing free. You want to learn what I know, you’re going to have to put out.”
“While I’m sure that idea appeals to you, Harry, I don’t put out. That’s not my style.” She decided to lie. “I’m into women. Men don’t do it for me. Sorry.”
His shoulders rose and fell. “I’m not fussy, nor am I particular. One hole is as good is another. I made a reservation for us at the hotel down the street. Meet me there for lunch, room two ten. It has a great view overlooking the city.”
He opened the door, she stopped him. “Wait.”
“I’m listening,” he said. “Make it fast I have a meeting in five minutes.”
“If I show up, you better make it worth my while. And I’ll be the judge of that, so you’d better have your clothes on.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. I have everything you need to bring Preston down. I can bring the man to his knees.” He turned and looked at her. “You see, while you been sitting here making all kinds of judgment calls,” he used air quotes and raised his voice, mimicking a woman’s. “Harry’s a porn addict and pot smoker, he’ll screw anything that’ll hold still long enough.” He shook a finger at her. “You’ve never made any secret what you think of me. And all this time, I’m the one with the keys to the kingdom. Bet you’re surprised now.”
Janice’s heart raced. She was pretty good at sizing people up. Had she been wrong about Harry? He came in every day like he’d clearly just rolled out of bed, he reeked of marijuana, and he was a wise ass who sexually harassed almost every woman in the office.
When she really thought about it, she’d also noticed there were times when Preston and Harry thought they were alone in the office. On several occasions, they’d had their heads together at the water cooler. They even went to the john together a few times. She’d been so focused on Derek she may have overlooked Harry completely. Maybe he was the one person Preston actually confided in. On the other hand, Preston wasn’t a chatty kind of guy. He kept everything close to his chest, which only made her suspicions grow.
She turned to her computer. “I’ll see you later.”
“You bet your sweet ass you will.”
She looked up. “I’m warning you, Harry. If you’re bullshitting me, you’ll live to regret it; and that’s a promise.”
Sergio Malakoff leaned back in his chair and brought a glass of rakija to his lips. The fruity drink soothed him and automatically lowered his blood pressure, but not his ire. His second in command, Drita leaned against the wall, an AK-15 cradled in his massive arms.
“We’ve been played for a fool, Drita, and nobody pulls the linen over Sergio Malakoff’s eyes.”
“It’s wool, boss.”
“What?” Sergio boomed.
Drita came closer and leaned down where his face was level with his boss. “It’s ‘you can’t pull the wool over my eyes.’ Not linen. You can see right through that skimpy cloth. Why would anyone say that?”
Anger surged through Sergio’s body and he hurled his drink at Drita, missing him by inches. “Do not correct me. My English is fine.”
Being smart, his soldier stepped back and shut his mouth. The man constantly criticized his use of the American language, but not today. His mood was too hot. Someone would pay for deceiving him, and he’d have his money or there would be hell to pay.
“We’re going to Washington and the White House.”
Drita’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down like a drowning puppy. “Why? We have no business there.”
“Jim Douglas came to me for many weapons, and I sold them to him. Did you know he told me who he was selling them to?” Sergio poured another glass of rakija and relaxed. “I am bos. I make it my business to find out everything.”
“And what did you learn?”
“That this El Hashem had a brother. One who pretends to be an American. His name is Preston McCoy and he’s a thief.” Sergio chuckled. “A fancy thief who wears expensive suits, but a thief just the same.”
Drita shook his head and propped his rifle against Sergio’s desk. “So, what does that have to do with Washington?”
Sergio threw back his head and laughed loud enough to wake the neighbors. “I am such a clever man. I should be living in that Executive Mansion and running this country.”
Drita held out his hands. “Boss, I don’t understand you. Why do you keep talking about the White House? If we go there, we will be killed before we reach the gate.”
Sergio held up his finger, commanding attention. “Oh, no. I have it all figured out. That bastard will die for trying to cheat me out of my money.”
Hands on his hips, Drita closed his eyes and shook his head. “What bastard?”
“Preston McCoy. He stole my guns and killed my friend, Jim Douglas.”
“Douglas had no friends. He was a liar, a crook, and he was the horniest bastard I knew.” Drita leaned on his desk. “You should’ve demanded the money before giving him such a large shipment of weapons.”
“You remember those Slavs who raped my daughter?”
“Yes, but we killed them.”
“We did, and Jim Douglas got rid of the bodies. So, I owed him a favor. He was certain El Hashem would pay him. This is not Douglas’s fault, it is McCoy’s.”
“Okay, okay,” Drita waved his hands. “But let’s kill him somewhere else besides the White House. Let’s pay him a visit at his home.”
“No, I have an idea what they plan to do and I’m going to throw a chimpanzee wrench in it.”
“No, boss, it’s ‘monkey wrench’.” Realizing his mistake when Malakoff turned beet red, he immediately held up his hands. “Sorry, boss, I can’t help myself.”
“I told you to stop hanging around with that school teacher. Smart women are more dangerous than any weapon on earth.”
Surrounded by so many men, Haley felt completely out of place. Brody and Tony had just returned to the Oval Office but had little to report, except that they didn’t believe one word the man in Baltimore said.
Garrett learned that Grey and Harrington had discovered nothing more about the massacre at the gun range. They interviewed a few locals, but the information they uncovered was of little importance.
Frank stood over in a corner talking on his cell phone while the president went about his daily business. At the moment, Secret Service agents were escorting him and Brady from a strategy meeting down the hall.
Garrett immediately found a small table and set up a computer. Other than a distracted smile at her, he attention was riveted on the screen. Haley, on the other hand, was bored out of her mind. She’d rather be working than just standing around doing nothing except waiting for the worst to happen.
They received hourly updates from security and the Secret Service. So far, everything had been normal with no sign of trouble. She wondered how much longer they’d have to wait until something happened.
She wished she could talk to Garrett. They had a lot of things to discuss, including their future. She loved him and realized that there had to be a way they could compromise. Didn’t couples who loved each
other do that all the time? Her parents had often enough while she and her siblings were growing up.
Okay, she didn’t like that he worked for Frank Hamilton. She had to admit, she’d never seen him so focused, alert, and at the ready. She didn’t know for what, but she did realize that men like Garrett were needed in this world.
She didn’t want it to be her man, but those were the cards she’d been dealt. If she walked away from the person she loved again, what would be left? Had she been any happier playing it safe? She glanced over at Garrett. He would never stop what he did, whether that be for Falcon Securities or some other agency. Not ever; and maybe that was something she had to learn to live with.
She approached him as several people came in and started setting up a long table. Perhaps it was time to clear the air and find out where she stood. Staring at his chiseled features, Haley nearly lost her breath. He was incredibly handsome, but what she loved about him had nothing to do with the way he looked.
It all boiled down to how he made her feel. Safe and loved.
Chapter Sixteen
Garrett’s nerves were wound tight as a rubber band. He worried which of the secure rooms in the White House to put Haley in so she’d be safe. He’d drawn her aside when staff members brought lunch in for everyone. “Listen, I need you to be smart. If anything happens, I want you to stay with the president. He has his own armed detail whose job it is to keep him safe.”
She took a sip of soda from a glass she’d picked up off the buffet table, then smiled. Touching his arm, she rose to her toes and kissed him gently on the lips. His world tilted and his chest constricted. His inside felt like warm chocolate. Her flesh was soft and warm, and that gentle kiss was so powerful it rocked him.
He indulged himself a few seconds before breaking the kiss. He looked down into eyes that were so mystifying and beautiful they squeezed the breath from his lungs.
“I’m going to be fine,” she reassured him, a seductive smile teasing her mouth. Lips so ripe to be kissed he had to ball his fists to keep from lifting her into his arms and finding a secluded place for them to make love.
