DARK WEB (BADGE BOYS Book 2)

by Tara Oakes

  Raven’s not exactly taking me seriously. “Sit down. Eat your breakfast. He’ll be back soon and you can ask him yourself. It’ll be your very first lovers’ quarrel.”

  My eyes squint and I scowl. “You finished?”

  Her lips purse sarcastically and she angles her eyes playfully in thought. “Uhm… no. I’m riding this for all it’s worth. Simon’s been pestering me for as long as I can remember. It’s kind of like poetic justice that now I have a way to pay him back. Busting your balls in the process is just an added bonus. Besides, you get all cute and pissy when you’re flustered.”

  Is that so?

  “Well, just remember that those balls you’re enjoying busting are the very same ones that make you come, darlin’. Don’t go biting the hand that feeds you.”

  She nearly chokes on her toast. “What about sucking the hand that feeds you? Is that better? It’s the least I can do to pay you back for making me breakfast.”

  I swallow hard, “It’s a start.”

  ~*~

  Showered, shaved, and dressed, I read through Simon’s message once more, as if it will somehow be different this time. It’s well after lunch and there’s still no sign of him. Raven’s tried his cell with no luck.

  I don’t know him exceptionally well, but I think I got to know him well enough in these last couple of days where this seems out of character for the strangely odd, pip-squeaked little guy.

  “I don’t think we should leave. Not now. What if he comes back and is in some kind of trouble?” I call out to Raven, who’s behind me at the kitchen table, finalizing the encryption of the flash drive from last night on her laptop.

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We can’t stay and miss this drop-off. If it makes you feel any better, I’ll go alone and you can stay here.” Her solution doesn’t offer any kind of comfort.

  “You’re not going alone,” I didn’t intend for my words to sound as stern as they do.

  I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, I can’t shake the feeling that something is off with Simon and am hesitant to leave the apartment knowing we have no way of contacting him since he’s not answering his cell.

  On the other hand, staying here and waiting for the little bugger would mean Raven travelling by herself to make the drop-off and exchange the flash drive for the cash. I’m sure she’s done this a hundred times before, being as it’s how she earns a living, but things are more dangerous for her now than they’ve ever been.

  I can’t risk the chance that she’ll be walking right into a trap.

  With crossed arms, I’m pacing back and forth across the small opening between the kitchen and living room, weighing my options.

  “You’re making me dizzy,” Raven doesn’t look up from her screen.

  “This isn’t right.” I scratch my chin and continue pacing. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the Bureau, it’s to trust your gut. This doesn’t feel right.”

  The laptop snaps shut. “You’re being paranoid. And, you being paranoid is starting to make me paranoid.”

  I try to exhale out some of my frustration. “Paranoia is good sometimes. Trust me. It keeps you on your toes, especially when you’ve got a shitload of people looking to nail your ass to the wall. Letting your guard down at a time like this is what could make the difference between seeing tomorrow or not.”

  She listens to my words, digesting them. “So what can we do? This gig is too important to pass up. It’s been slow these last few weeks. I need this cash to buy some intel about my parents.”

  “What kind of intel is this possibly going to get us?” I stop my nervous pacing and lean up against the doorframe instead.

  Raven’s been too secretive about all the details around this sudden gig that we had to take. It’s time I knew why.

  “I got a message last week, right before I met up with you. I recognized the hacker it came from. He’s been picking up some odd gigs on the message boards every once in a while. Based out of London, but he’s new on the scene. Simon’s been working on finding out more about them but the guy, or chick, is good, whoever they are.” She takes a breath, pausing her explanation.

  “The message said they picked up some chatter about my folks. Where they were being held. I have no idea if he’s full of shit or not, but the fact that he even knows about my parents at all is a strong indicator that he might be telling the truth--”

  She can’t be this naïve. “Or they could be full of shit and are just trying to get you to London and lure you out of hiding.”

  Her eyes harden as if she’s getting defensive. “You don’t think I realize that? You don’t think I see how ultra convenient the timing of all of this is? But, what choice do I have, hmm?”

  I open my mouth to tell her what choices she has, but she cuts me off. “I need the twenty-five thousand pounds from this gig to buy the info about my parents.”

  “That was the amount, the cost for the intel? Twenty-five thousand?” I ask for clarification.

  She nods.

  “And you didn’t think it at all suspicious that the purse for the gig was exactly the same amount as what you needed?” She can’t possibly be daft enough not to have questioned this herself.

  Her feathers are getting ruffled. “Obviously. That’s why I’ve taken some precautions.”

  My eyebrow raises. “Oh? What precautions?”

  “I paired the files with another gig I did last week in Stockholm, and I put a time lock on it. When I make the drop off, if it turns out it’s a trap, and something happens to me, they’ll never be able to get the files unlocked and even if they do they won’t know which ones are from which gig.” She seems proud of herself.

  I’ll admit, it does sound like she’s covered her bases on that end, but there’s a much bigger elephant in the room.

  “You’re assuming that the person who hired you for the gig actually even wants that data you stole. What if it was only a ruse to flush you out? Then, it doesn’t matter what kind of encryption you used or not. You’re the prize they want, not the flash drive.” I know that more than likely, I’m right about this.

  Her eyes drop. I can tell there’s something else she isn’t telling me.

  “What?” I feel a bunch of nerves tighten in my stomach.

  She sucks on her upper lip, hesitating. “That’s where Simon came in. He was going to make the drop-off for me.”

  My eyes close and I draw in a hard breath. “And now he’s missing…” My fist clenches into a ball and I slam it on the nearby countertop. “Fuck, no. This isn’t going to happen. Get it out of your pretty little head.”

  I’m not sure which part of my statement pissed her off more. The fact that I told her she’s not going to do something, or me bringing her pretty little head into it.

  She stands. “Don’t tell me what I’m doing or not doing. I don’t have much choice. Either I turn over a shit load of state secrets to get my parents back, which will most certainly get us all killed anyway, or I try and get them back on my own--”

  “Which will get you captured and then they’ll get the information they really want anyway, before killing you all. Great plan.” Now I can see why she waited so long to clue me in on all this. It’s a terrible idea, one that I wouldn’t have gone along with. She knew that, too.

  “I don’t have a choice.” She packs up her laptop as if she’s actually leaving.

  I take it forcefully from her. “The fuck you do. I’ll go.”

  She freezes and stares at me. “No. Tha-that’s not why I brought you here. I—I didn’t set you up to sacrifice you to them.”

  Honestly, that thought hadn’t even crossed my mind, but, now that she says it, I can’t help but think on it. She’s been running from these thugs for months, avoiding giving in to them and giving up the secrets that she holds dear. Those hard won secrets are her security, her retirement, her insurance policy. Knowing the second she were to give them up, she would have nothing left to bargain with, she did what anyone in her sh
oes would do.

  She went on the run.

  Well, that didn’t sit too well with the people she was running from, so they added a little more leverage to their side, by grabbing her parents, basically forcing her into a corner.

  But, she’s stubborn. She’s not going down without a fight.

  Then, conveniently, a mysterious hacker shows up, who happens to have some information about her mom and dad and demands an exact amount of cash that is being offered by a hacking gig?

  Too perfect.

  Not to mention, the backup plan she had in place for not actually making the drop herself has now all but gone to hell in a hand basket, with Simon, the delivery guy, disappearing right before he’s supposed to make the exchange for her. The timing couldn’t be worse.

  Or, could it?

  The logical, rational part of my brain pieces this all together like a puzzle. She needed me for the gig, to hack into the database, breaking past all of the firewalls that aren’t her strong suit and retrieve the files for her. What if she needed me for something else, too?

  What if she needed some poor sap to make the delivery for her, keeping her and Simon out of harms way?

  Is that what this is?

  And, as long as I’m on that trail of thought, was last night just part of her plan? Seduce me, make sure I’m more amiable to be her puppet?

  “Fuck this!” I’m getting pissed. Pissed at her for even dragging me into this nightmare and pissed at myself for not seeing the signs sooner. “I’m calling a buddy at the Bureau. This shit’s too deep for us alone.”

  I make my way over to my cell phone, charging on a nearby lamp table in the living room.

  “No! Please, Beau!” She calls after me, following close behind. Grabbing hold of my bicep, she tries her best to turn me. “Please don’t”

  I shake her off delicately. Rather than continue to try and physically move me, which she must realize is useless given the difference in our size, she collapses into the seat of the couch, burying her head in her hands.

  I power my phone to life, bringing up the touch screen dial pad, fully prepared to call my old partner, Chris Gibson, knowing that our brotherly bond will surely supersede any Bureau protocol about turning me in.

  But, I don’t.

  Why, you ask?

  I’ve seen women cry in all different ways. I’ve seen it in grief, I’ve seen it in anger, frustration, even manipulation.

  I’ve never seen the type of crying that Raven is doing right now. It grips me, tugs at something deep within.

  It’s defeat.

  I’m torn, with my finger hovering over the illuminated screen yet wanting to use it instead to caress her hair, her cheek, hold her close and tell her it will be alright.

  There’s a battle going on deep inside of me. Not, being able to take it any longer, I fall down next to her and snake my arms around her quivering shoulders.

  She doesn’t speak. I don’t speak.

  I just hold her.

  Eventually, the sobbing subsides, leaving a dampened area on my shirt where she’s resting her head. I don’t care, though. I feel her breathing begin to slow and normalize, judging that the worst has passed.

  “I can’t save them. I know it. I think I’ve always known it.” Her voice is drained. “And now Simon, he may be caught up in this too. Everyone is being taken, everyone is at risk. All because of me.”

  Part of what she says is true, but now isn’t the time to tell her that. “Shh… It’ll be alright.”

  I feel her head shaking back and forth against my chest, not agreeing with me. “No. There’s only one way to end this. I have to give myself over to them, tell them what I know. Maybe there’s some small chance they’ll let my parents go.”

  She knows as well as I do that there isn’t a chance in hell that will happen. If she does what she’s talking about it’s nothing more than suicide, and the people who are holding the proverbial gun to her head would then be in possession of some very dangerous state secrets that could cause worldwide panic.

  I use the few moments of silence that follow her statement to analyze the situation. There’s little choice here. We need to get the Bureau involved. There’s no other way. But, even if I were to call Chris this instant, there’s no chance we’d be able to get something in the works in time to make the flash drive exchange today.

  “I’ll do it.” I hear myself say. “I’ll make the exchange instead of Simon, instead of you. We’ll decide what to do after that, but for now, I can’t think of anything else.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  BEAU

  The market square is crowded, with pedestrians walking through, stopping to shop at one of the many vendors set up along the way. The outdoor cafés are bustling with nearly every single bistro table occupied.

  Just about an hour ago, the rendezvous instructions came through by secured email. Raven tried everything she could to crack it, to gain some more information about who may have sent it, but nothing worked. Even I took a stab at it, although my specialty is more in financial data encryption, to no avail.

  Whoever sent it is good, and I mean really good, almost to the point that it scares me good. It’s a very unsettling feeling to know your opponent may have an advantage over you.

  “There,” Raven points to one of the scrolled, wrought iron café tables offset somewhat in the corner of the outdoor dining room.

  Just as explained in the email instructions, a man in a red, lightweight jacket and white baseball cap is sitting alone with his back turned toward the north facing entrance. That’s our mark, the person we’re to meet.

  It’s time.

  I had given Raven instructions on what to do if I should be captured, or worse. She has Chris Gibson’s contact information and knows to call him immediately. He’ll be able to set up enough help to get her out of this safely, although that will pretty much mean giving up all hope on her parents’ rescue.

  No matter how much I want to believe that she’ll obey me and follow my orders to contact Chris should she need to, I also know that, to her, it would mean signing her parents’ death warrant and she’d never do it.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can. The first sign of trouble, though, and I want you to haul ass out of here as fast as possible and go to the American Consulate,” I instruct.

  She nods dutifully, but doesn’t actually give any indication of whether she would do it or not.

  “Beau?” She grips my forearm as I’m ready to take my first step.

  I pause and turn to her.

  “Be careful,” she whispers while leaning in, letting her soft sensuous lips cover mine and close softly around them.

  We both know the danger in what I’m about to do, although we’ve been careful not to discuss that part of it.

  “Come back, okay? You’re kind of growing on me. I—” she starts lightheartedly, but I can see a tear welling in her eye.

  I smile, knowing the hidden meaning behind her words. She’s just too stubborn to actually admit that she wants me around.

  Swiping the bawling drop from her lower eyelid, I reassure her. “I’m not going anywhere. Just don’t do anything stupid while I’m busy, okay?”

  Her eyes roll. “I don’t do stupid thin—”

  She’s so damn stubborn that she can’t even help herself from arguing at a time like this. I quiet her the best way I know how. I find better uses for her mouth.

  This kiss isn’t gentle and sweet like the one she had given me a moment ago. Hell, no. If things go to shit like I think they may this afternoon, then I want to remember her this way. Having her breath taken away by me. Having her moan deep, wanting more, not able to control her body once it’s in my arms.

  I pull away just as quickly as I pulled her in.

  I need to focus, get my mind back on track. Walking into a meeting like this with a raging hard-on probably isn’t such a great idea. I know that if I don’t leave Raven right now, I won’t have much control of the situation, and my cock
will do what it wants regardless of the possibility that it’ll take me off my game.

  Saying nothing else to her, I turn my back to Raven, hopefully not for the last time, I remind myself, and walk through the crowd to the waiting table. I have my gun in the back waist of my jeans, the one Raven had disarmed from me the first night she drugged me in the Ukraine.

  I know it’s not much protection against whatever I’m up against, but at least it’s something. Although, I’m guessing the reason the mysterious gig employer chose this very public place was to ensure his own safety.

  Too many witnesses. Too many innocent bystanders that could get injured if I were to try anything stupid to take him out.

  As I approach, I get a better look at the man with his back turned to me. I can see scraggly, sandy blonde hair escaping the bottom of the white baseball cap he wears.

  His frame is small, although partially hidden by the too-large jacket he’s wearing. Judging from his stature while sitting, I’d say he was no more than five foot six inches or so.

  With only a few steps left to go before I take the empty seat opposite him, I’m hit with a bout of nausea.

  Small frame.

  Short height.

  Scraggly dirty blond hair…

  Shit!

  I close my eyes tight as I blindly take the hard chair that’s left open for me and grit my teeth hard enough for them to crack. I can’t believe this. What a fucking turn of events.

  I open my eyes, knowing full well who I’ll see when I do.

  “Hi, Simon.”

  ~*~

  There’s a voided look to his eyes, very different from what you’d expect from a criminal mastermind who’s set all of this in motion and it throws me for a loop.

  “What’ll it be?” A slightly annoyed and overworked waitress comes over as soon as she spotted me taking a seat, with her pen and order pad at the ready.

  I shake my head without looking at her. There’s no way I’m taking my eyes off Simon for even the slightest moment. “Just water for now, thanks. We’ll need a minute or two.”