by Misty Evans
Bree still had fibers from the trunk of the car in her mouth, and spit at Megan. The girl had struck her on the head and stuffed her into the trunk of her car where Bree had come to, briefly, before losing consciousness again. The next time, she was bound and in her current situation and Boris was using his scalpel to wake her up. Thanks to the device, her own hand now held a gun pointed right at her temple.
The whole thing was a decoy. “You’re going to kill Aidan,” she ground out, resisting Megan’s efforts as much as possible.
Boris continued to clean as though he didn’t hear her.
Megan laughed, her voice light as if this was a day at Disneyland rather than a torture session. “A murder/suicide. That’s what I voted for.” She tightened one of the straps, making Bree grunt. “Estranged husband and wife, unable to work out their differences.” She tsked. “Such a sad, sad story.”
Bree struggled against the restraints, wanting nothing more than to choke the girl. Boris sauntered over. “Careful now, my dear, or you’ll end up dead before your husband arrives. We wouldn’t want that, now would we?”
He had the audacity to reach out and pat her face. Her injuries were severe, the blood soaking through her clothes, and splashing onto the contraption holding her in the suicide position. The skilled cuts were meant to wound but not kill, and yet she might be dead before Aidan got there regardless. The loss of blood was causing her to feel dizzy and lightheaded. Unconsciousness was only a few breaths away.
Keep him talking. Keep yourself awake. “And the knife wounds?” She blinked through the sweat and blood running into her eyes. “How will the coroner explain the surgical precision?”
Boris smiled and Megan chuckled again, the sound grating on Bree’s nerves. “You don’t have much imagination, do you? Aidan was a SEAL, for God’s sake. He cut you up, you blew his brains out, then in a fit of remorse you killed yourself. The end.”
Smartass bitch. Megan was obviously one of the sleeper agents. She’d been right under their nose.
So young and fucking brainwashed, what a sad, sad story. “What I may lack in imagination…you lack in brain cells.” The girl tightened another strap and it pulled one of the wounds further open, making Bree gasp in pain. Still, she had to get in the taunts while she could. “Vaslov will dispose of you next,” she said around the agony. “He’s not known for leaving…witnesses.”
Megan rolled her eyes, obviously not believing her. Young, brainwashed and stupid, Bree added the last one to the list.
Boris stroked the girl’s hair, as if he were her lover. “I reward those who do what I tell them.”
Reward, right. “So you put Megan at Uncle Martin’s spa for what reason?” Bree asked.
Boris smiled. “I needed to take care of some loose ends with the two of you. Megan was there to keep an eye on you, even though you don’t make very many family appearances.” The knife gleamed as he held it up, examining the blade. “Once I’m done with you and Aidan, I can get back to work on destroying America.”
“Aidan’s coming for you,” Bree hissed, “and your spy ring.”
Megan examined her work. “Aidan was a decent guy, and I truly thought I might be able to recruit him to our side. I tried everything! Threw myself at him.”
“You were a honey pot.” The term was used for a female agent using her wiles to compromise a target.
“Didn’t work. He was too in love with you.” She poked at a wound and Bree fought back the scream on her lips. “He’s a lost cause, but we have bigger fish to fry. Oil rigs, riots by the Mexicans, it’s going to be a real party.”
Bree could barely stay conscious and fought against the heaviness of her eyelids, the darkness closing in. She had to at least stay awake until Aidan got there, try to warn him.
Boris and Megan kept talking, but their voices drifted, sounding far away. Bree fought to keep herself from passing out.
Have to stay awake…
There was no warning—just bam, the door flew open, smacking against the wall and jerking Bree out of her lightheadedness.
Aidan stood there, laptop in hand. He’d snuck right up on them, and Boris looked startled, the knife raising as if in defense.
Aidan threw the laptop at Boris’s feet. “Let her go.”
“Agent McNamara,” Vaslov said, regaining his composure “Welcome to the party.”
Bree strained, lights dancing at the edges of her vision, threatening to close in no matter how hard she fought. “Aidan…it’s a trap. Get out! The laptop was a decoy.”
He didn’t so much as glance at her, his focus solely on Vaslov. “Last warning. Let. Her. Go.”
Megan pulled out a gun and strutted toward him. “No deal. I really liked you,” she said. “I wish you didn’t have such a boner for her.” She waved the gun at Bree.
That was her first mistake, outside of kidnapping Bree to begin with. Aidan moved like a flash of light, and was on top of her in an instant. He grabbed the wrist holding the gun and knocked it sideways.
Megan screamed. The gun fired, plaster falling from the ceiling where the bullet lodged. Aidan disarmed her in another quick movement, knocking her off balance. She stumbled backward, and Boris shifted to the side out of the way, letting her fall.
Everything happened in an instant – Boris threw the knife at Aidan, Aidan went low, kicking out and nailing Boris in the knee. As that happened, Megan tumbled into Bree, nearly knocking her over.
In the next heartbeat, Aidan palmed the knife and threw it at Bree. She closed her eyes and sucked in her breath.
She felt it slice through one of the wires and her hand fell. While the rest of her was still tangled in the straps and pulleys, her arm was now free enough that she could turn the gun on Megan instead.
She didn’t hesitate, shooting her in the hip to disable her. Bree tried to fire again, but nothing came out since they only planned on one bullet for her
Click click click, using the last of her strength, she kept trying to shoot Vaslov anyway.
Aidan was taking care of him though. They rolled and fought, Vaslov’s weight more than Aidan’s, but Aidan’s training giving him the upper hand. With a couple swift blows to his head and neck, Aidan disabled Boris, leaving the man unconscious. Maybe dead.
Bree didn’t really care at this point, her body giving up as more of her blood drained away and she couldn’t stay conscious.
She woke moments later to him releasing her and slapping her face. “Wake up, Bree. You’re not checking out on me.”
She stared up at him and struggled to do as he said. “I…love you,” she whispered. She didn’t have the energy for it to be anything more than that.
He must’ve heard her, and bent so his face was in front of hers. “I’ve always loved you, and always will. I’ve never asked you for anything, but today? I’m asking—demanding—this. Do not die on me.”
He picked her up and started to carry her out, Bree’s arms doing their best to go around his neck and hang on. They’d only gone a couple steps when Aidan suddenly stopped.
“I’m sorry, Bree,” a familiar female voice said. “I’m in love with your Uncle Martin, and I didn’t want to do this, but now I have no choice. With Boris dead, I guess I’m now in charge.”
Bree couldn’t believe her ears. She turned her head to see Loretta standing there, holding a gun on her and Aidan.
“You were my mother’s…friend. How could you?”
The undercover operative looked sad, truly apologetic, but if Bree had had it in her, she would have jumped Loretta and killed her at that moment. The betrayal stung deeply, the realization that she had trusted her hurt even worse.
Aidan held her tight, taking a step back. “You don’t have to take over anything,” he said, his voice calm and even. “I can get you a deal. You can get out of this life, build something with Martin, if you really love him. You don’t have to do this, Loretta.”
She was the last one for them to uncover. All this time, Loretta had been embedded as pa
rt of Boris’s spy ring. The rage inside Bree reignited adrenaline, and she fought to get out of Aidan’s arms, to get to the woman.
Bree knew it before it happened, the change in Loretta’s eyes telling her. Aidan must have seen it too, and started to duck and turn to protect Bree.
Using the last of her strength, Bree shoved against him, knocking him off balance as she flipped out of his hold. She heard a bullet fire, the explosion ringing in the room. Megan, still incapacitated, screamed.
Fresh pain tore through Bree’s shoulder as she lunged toward Loretta, but the woman was fast, and dodged her grip. Next thing Bree saw was Loretta running away.
“Go after her,” Bree yelled at Aidan.
He ignored Loretta, falling to his knees next to Bree. “What the hell was that, Russo?”
The darkness threatened to take her under once more, the feel of Aidan’s hands the only reassurance that she’d be okay, whether she lived or died.
“I love you,” she repeated.
Seconds before unconsciousness closed in on her, she saw Uncle Martin come into view. In one hand he had Loretta’s gun, in the other, he had Loretta.
His face blanched when he saw Bree, but he quipped anyway, “Lose something?”
Ten
Twenty-four hours later, Sunday night
Brownsville Hospital
* * *
Clandestine operations…not for the faint of heart
* * *
Aidan stood at the window, looking out at the darkness. The smell of the hospital was embedded in his skin and nose now, and he longed for a hot shower.
Behind him, soft beeps kept track of Bree’s heart rate, the monitors checking her pulse, oxygen intake, and a host of other details. He’d gotten her to the emergency room on the mainland and she’d had surgery, a multitude of stitches, and a dozen different medications to help with pain and keep her from getting an infection. She’d been in and out of it most of the day, and when she had come to, she merely bitched about the pain, the hospital, and anything else she could think of before she fell asleep again.
At least she was getting her spunk back. The knife wounds had not been fatal, of course, since Vaslov wanted her to suffer but appear to have committed suicide. The bastard was dead now, and Aidan was relieved he could never hurt anyone again. Anger still burned in his gut, however, and he would’ve like to have given the man a taste of his own medicine before he’d killed him.
Megan was talking, spilling her guts in an effort to lessen the charges against her. Loretta, on the other hand, had gone totally silent. She seemed to be old school Russian, refusing to give up any information.
Bree’s boss had uncovered the fact that Boris and Loretta had once had an affair, producing Linda. Bree’s friend from her younger years had never known who her father was, and now had learned both her mother and father were Russian spies. The shock had to be significant.
The spy ring was going after oil refineries, planning to blow up many of them, and blame it on a Mexican cartel. The rest had been rounded up and were being questioned before they were offered to Russia in exchange for several US operatives being held as political prisoners.
Aidan heard the rustle of sheets. “Where’s my wedding band?”
He turned to find Bree awake again, her bandaged hands patting where the necklace had been. Aidan fished it out of his pocket and walked to her, smiling. “Feeling better?”
She took it from him, her skin chilly. “I feel like shit.” She removed some of the bandages and slipped the ring on her finger. “But at least Boris is dead, that fucking maniac, although I’d like to bring him back to life and kill him all over again for the scars I’m going to have.”
She let go a litany of curses that impressed him, even as a former SEAL.
Smiling to himself, he said, “Beatrice mentioned she’d pay for any plastic surgery you want.”
Bree’s eyes snapped to his. “You talked to her?”
“I did, and no, I haven’t accepted the job. Yet,” he added. “I’m not going anywhere until you’re back on your feet and we have at least a day or two of normal married life. Although, honestly, I’m not sure either of us knows what that is.”
The door burst open and Joey, Candace, and Martin came in, bringing flowers, balloons, and candy, and making over Bree in her bed. She pushed up a little and Aidan helped her get the pillows under her so she was propped up well enough to see and talk to them.
“You’re still so pale,” Martin said, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the forehead. He was carrying the box of ornaments Aidan had found and set them on the table next to her. “I thought you might want to look through these,” he said, winking. “Maybe a little piece of home will make you feel better.”
Bree’s eyes teared up and she reached for him again. He leaned down and they embraced. When he finally broke away, Bree dashed tears off her cheeks. “I’ll take over the spa, Uncle Martin, if Aidan agrees to stay on as security manager.”
He and Martin exchanged a knowing look, and the man waved the offer away. “You’re a born spy, my dear, and still have work to do to keep this country safe. Your mother would be proud.”
He had one of his man bags on and unzipped it. A small Chihuahua head popped out and started panting, a thump thump thump coming from inside.
Martin pulled Princess Gracie out and she nearly leapt from his arms to get to Bree who laughed and embraced her, and the little dog licked her face happily.
Joey and Candace took turns telling Bree about the open house, the now closed florist, and Linda. She seemed to enjoy the gossip, which slightly surprised Aidan, but he was glad of their friendship, something she’d rarely experienced in her life.
After they left, Aidan opened the box. He pulled out a plastic ice skater, wrapped in a red muffler and doing a spin.
Bree’s eyes lit up. “I wanted to be a skater when I was seven,” she said. “Mom got that for me for Christmas that year.” The next was a horse, and again, Bree gave him the details. “That’s when I was nine and wanted to be a jockey.”
They laughed and she reminisced. Aidan went through several others, each seeming to bring Bree more happiness. He knew she still had to be hurting, but the painkillers were keeping the worst at bay. She smiled, told him a few stories, and laughed more than he’d heard since Vegas.
Even though she was in such banged up shape, she seemed to feel lighter, less burdened down. He hadn’t seen that in a long, long time.
She stayed away from talking any more about Boris, Loretta, Megan, and the spy ring, and that surprised him too. She was usually all business, but maybe now, she could find some closure with what had happened to them in Russia. As Aidan put the last ornament back in the box and closed it, he said, “We’re going to need a tree to put these on.”
Her smile faded and she looked serious. “Aidan, I’ll stay here if you want me to. Uncle Martin needs you, and maybe he needs me too.” She forced a smile. “I hear the island needs a new florist. How hard can it be to arrange flowers?”
“You have a brown thumb. It’ll never work. Your uncle suspected Loretta was a plant, by the way,” he told her. “He just didn’t know what for.”
She shrugged and rolled her eyes. “You can take the spy out of Langley, but you can’t take espionage out of the spy, can you?”
They shared a laugh.
Aidan sat on the edge of her bed, taking her hand in his. His fingers found the wedding band and absentmindedly stroked it. It was a good sign she was wearing it again, right? After all they’d been through, the many exchanges of I love you, he still wasn’t sure.
“So if I want to stay here, keep working for your uncle, you’re really okay with that?”
She watched his fingers caressing her ring and she gave him a bright smile. “This spy gig is pretty hard on me,” she admitted. “I think maybe I’m ready for a normal life.”
Aidan knew better. She’d never been normal in all the time he’d known her, and he doubted she was be
ing truthful with him. “So wherever I go, you’re willing to follow?”
She playfully punched him on the arm. “Am I not making myself clear?”
He smiled and dipped his head to kiss her. When he started to pull away, she grabbed him by the back of the neck and kept him there.
The kiss turned hot, like it always did between the two of them, and pretty soon he was laughing against her mouth.
She punched him again, this time not as playfully, and he grunted. “What is so funny?”
Honestly, he wasn’t sure, other than just pure happiness. “You’re giving up awfully easy.”
“Yeah, well, get used to it, at least while I’m on all these drugs.”
“I love you, Bree.”
“I know. That’s why I married you and put up with you all these years.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes. “So if I asked you to marry me again, would you do it?”
“Renew our vows?”
He nodded. “Will you marry me again, Bree DeMarco Russo-McNamara?”
“I’ll think about it.” She smirked. “Okay, I guess so.”
He laughed and then went to work kissing her senseless once more.
Epilogue
Ambush
* * *
Aidan sat across from Beatrice Reese in her office. It was plush, but not overly ritzy. The woman herself was direct and no nonsense. She’d made him an offer, and he’d be stupid to refuse it, but he had other things in mind for his future.
“I’ve uncovered another spy ring and want to go after it.”
It’d been a week since Bree had been released from the hospital. Her resolve to stay at the spa with him and her Uncle Martin had lasted approximately six hours. She was supposed to be resting when he found her researching suspicious activity in the Midwest revolving around a known Russian traitor who’d sought refuge in the United States.
