by CW Browning
Damon stared at her.
“What?”
She shrugged.
“All he said was he used to be a soldier, and that this is one of the financial hubs of the world.”
Hawk frowned.
“He wants you to focus on the banks,” he stated.
She nodded.
“Yes, but why?”
“What did he say about Kasim?”
Alina repeated what Charlie told her and Damon listened, his lips pressed together thoughtfully.
“Do you think they have another plan?” he asked when she was finished.
“It’s possible,” she said slowly. “I wouldn’t rule it out, but I also wouldn’t lay bets on it. Asad was the brains of the two. Without him, Kasim is just a bomb-maker.”
“Don’t underestimate him,” Hawk warned softly. “He got this far.”
Viper looked at him for a long moment.
“I know. That’s why I want to get back as soon as possible.”
Damon smiled slowly, his eyes gaining a mischievous twinkle she was learning to recognize. It made her pulse leap and her heart skip beats.
“Don’t be in such a rush,” he murmured, lowering his head to press a soft kiss on the base of her neck. He smiled against the rapid pulse there and kissed a leisurely path up to her lips. “We have three days. Let’s make the most of them.”
The man watched as the nail technician placed both his hands in warm, citrus-scented water. She nodded to him and turned to talk to her co-worker at her side while his nails soaked. Leaning his head against the high back of the massage chair, he closed his eyes.
When he had arrived back the afternoon before, he was already planning his flight back to the United States. It was the only place he could find the information he needed. He had to go back to Philadelphia. His intent was to get home, book a flight, sleep, and leave again today.
The airport had changed all that.
His lips pressed together unpleasantly. He was walking out of the baggage claim area when he saw her, moving purposefully through the crowds. She was avoiding the cameras skillfully, and he knew it would be pointless to pull the CCTV footage from the airport. She wouldn’t be on it.
Viper was too good for that.
He couldn’t deny it had been a shock to see her there, in his home city, clearly having just arrived. She was careful, he would give her that. She not only avoided all the cameras and security, but she swept the whole terminal, looking for signs of ambush or surveillance. The entire sweep was accomplished in less than thirty minutes. She was nothing if not efficient.
The man suppressed a sigh. The only reason she didn’t see him was because, through pure chance, he saw her first. It was simple enough to grab a baseball cap and reading glasses from one of the small gift shops, and transform his appearance into something she wouldn’t look at twice, especially when he knew exactly what she was looking for. They were trained to see the same things, search out the same warning signs. Government agencies were all so boringly identical. Same clothing, same haircuts, same undercover disguises. Hell, most of the civilized countries even used the same surveillance vehicles. The colors and models changed, but the MO remained the same. Stupid.
He frowned, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling of the salon, painted a mellow cream with tree branches stenciled in decorative clusters. Of course, he wasn’t a government man, just as she wasn’t an official government agent. She had seen him, though, and he knew she wouldn’t forget his face. Short of plastic surgery, there was no way to hide from her now, not really. He might be able to slip past her once or twice, but if Viper ever got a good look at his face, he knew he was done.
And now she was here, in Singapore.
The frown eased as the nail technician lifted one of his hands out of the water and dried it before starting on his nails. He watched as she began filing, starting with his pinky.
There was only one possible explanation. She was here for him.
How the hell did she find out who he was?
The man returned his eyes to the ceiling thoughtfully. All his contracts were anonymous. He never knew who hired him. He didn’t want to know. He was very clear in his terms. If the client began to slip and give him too much information that would indicate their identity, he stopped them. The less he knew about the people paying him, the better off they all were. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement that his clients appreciated, knowing their identities were safe. He had never had a reason to doubt the wisdom of not knowing who hired him. Until now.
Discovering how a lowly FBI Special Agent was involved with an elite, international assassin would be much easier if he knew who wanted the FBI agent dead badly enough to pay him twice his normal rate. The man shook his head to himself. He should have realized there was something wrong with the size of the fee. No one paid that much for a simple Federal agent, not without a good reason.
The technician finished with his left hand and lifted his right one out of the water. He looked down again and watched as she dried it and reached for her filing block again.
First things first: he had to find Viper, and he couldn’t do it himself. It was too risky. If she saw him, it would be over. He had to find her before she found him, and he had to move quickly. There was a reason she was called Viper. She moved silently, struck swiftly, and never left survivors.
Or so they said.
The man watched as his nails were shaped and tidied. There wasn’t a lot for the technician to do. He made it a point to have a manicure once every two weeks, and took very good care of it between sessions.
He would use Wesley. Wesley was a local man with a promising future. He knew how to move without being seen, and observe without doing anything rash. Viper wouldn’t look twice at him. He had the misfortune of being one of the most nondescript people the man had ever seen. Not very helpful with the ladies, but extremely useful for his line of work.
The man leaned his head back again, satisfied. Wesley would find her. If he was fortunate enough to get a clear shot, he would tell him to take it. Maybe he would get lucky and Wesley would take care of Viper for him. His lips twisted sardonically.
Doubtful, but a man could hope.
Chapter Four
Viper slipped unobtrusively out of the private office on the fourth floor of the US Embassy, moving quickly down the deserted hallway. According to the calendar on the desk, the employee who worked there was on a two-week holiday in Athens, leaving the office deserted. Getting in was almost too easy, she reflected as she headed toward the stairwell. No wonder the country’s security was in such disarray. Gaining access to the Marine and Army databases was decidedly harder, but again, not impossible. At least, not when you knew what you were looking for and how to bypass the firewalls.
Her lips tightened as she disappeared into the stairwell. After spending three hours poring over pension and disability records, she had found three potential candidates on the mainland, and two on neighboring islands. She would start with them.
Moving down the stairs, Alina wondered what Hawk was up to. He had left after their breakfast of coffee and fresh fruit, saying he had something to take care of. She sighed now as she jogged down the steps. They both clearly had their own goals today, and that was unlikely to change even if they continued to spend significant amounts of time together. Neither of them were used to working as a team, and at least in this instance, they had separate agendas.
Reaching the ground floor, she pushed open the door with her shoulder and moved into the back corridor of the embassy. A frown crossed her face as she thought about the cryptic phone call with Charlie this morning. Why was she here? Last week she was on lock down in New Jersey, under orders to stay out of the international arena until Charlie could find the leak that led to her being pursued through the Mediterranean. Now he sent her half-way around the world. Why the sudden change?
Viper was well aware of the vastness of intelligence Charlie had access to. If there was one thing she
had learned over the years, it was that Charlie knew things that no one else did, and he used that knowledge with impunity. It was part of the beast he had created with the Organization. He knew more than his assets, and he manipulated and directed them as the need arose, to keep US soldiers and citizens around the world safe. Knowledge was his weapon, and he wielded it ruthlessly. Viper never questioned it. This was the way her world worked, and her role in it was very clear. He passed select pieces of intelligence on to her, and she eliminated the targets accordingly. She did not question the orders. She performed her own research, her own planning, and her own execution. All he did was provide the initial intel. Viper had never had a reason to question his motives.
Until now.
She paused outside the entrance to the public area of the embassy and took a deep breath. Exhaling, she opened the door and slipped into the bustling lobby. She lowered her face and partially turned her head, obscuring her features from the camera pointed at the door. Moving confidently away from the door, she crossed the marble floor and moved through the embassy toward the entrance. No one spared her a second glance. She was just another face, making her way out after completing her business.
Two weeks ago she was identified in Damascus by people who should never have known she was there. She was pursued through Greece and Italy, again by agents who shouldn’t have known of her existence. Charlie had a leak in his Organization, and while he was working to uncover it, his assets were at risk across the globe. Viper had known this when she stepped onto the plane with Hawk forty-eight hours ago. They both knew their survival was solely in their own hands. A leak in Washington knew much more about asset movements than was safe, and their very anonymity was in question. Now, for the first time since this nightmare began, Alina found herself questioning everything, even this trip.
Charlie was up to something, and he dispatched her and Hawk to Singapore for a purpose. It wasn’t her job to question it, but Viper found herself wondering what was so important he was risking not just her, but Hawk as well. Was this ex-soldier really so critical that Charlie was willing to expose them?
She nodded to the Marine guard at the door and stepped outside into the hot, muggy afternoon sun. A few minutes later she was passing out of the gates and striding away from the fortress-like embassy. She hailed a cab a block away and gave the driver the first address on the mainland. The questions and doubts swirling in her mind were pushed aside. For the time being, they were immaterial.
It was time to start hunting.
Hawk watched in the store front window as his target stepped out of the restaurant on the opposite side of the street and turned to walk the single block to his hotel. He waited until the tall man was halfway to the corner before turning and leisurely strolling along the sidewalk, two bags from designer stores in either hand. He was just another tourist out wandering the shopping district while his significant other spent his money. He glanced into the next store window, his eyes watching the man as he paused on the corner and waited to cross to his hotel.
When Hawk got the text from Charlie this morning, telling him Sergei Kuriev was heading to Singapore, he actually chuckled to himself. For once it appeared he knew something before Charlie. It was with great relish he had responded that Sergio was already here. Hawk had seen him in the street on the way to their hotel.
The man crossed the road, and Hawk turned to watch as he strode to the entrance of the hotel and disappeared inside. Pressing his lips together thoughtfully, Hawk turned and continued his leisurely stroll, crossing the street and walking along the pavement, his sharp blue gaze picking out the doorman and security in the alcove of the hotel. He turned his head and looked up, then stopped and turned to face the building next to him. To any observer he appeared surprised that the building was another hotel and not a store, and he turned to wander back the way he came. A small smile played on his lips as he crossed back to the other side of the street again.
He knew just how to get to the illusive Chechen warlord. Now he just had to convince Viper that she wanted to go to another hotel for dinner tomorrow night.
Damon strolled along the street, maintaining his slow pace even though his target was no longer in a position to see. It had been easy enough to find him. Sergei had a very specific routine which he followed every morning, no matter the weather or how late he was up the night before. Last night, while Alina ordered room service, Damon went online and found the only two restaurants that included Syrniki on the menu. This morning at eight o’clock sharp, Sergei walked into one of them, dressed in running pants and a windbreaker, fresh from the gym. Habits were maintained, even when away from home. His target was nothing if not predictable.
Damon continued down the street and turned the corner. He wondered if Charlie had intel that Sergei was going to be here before he sent them to Singapore. They knew when they got on the plane in Philadelphia that Charlie was sending them halfway across the world for a reason. As it turned out, he had two reasons. Hawk swore that man was omniscient.
If he could do that, why couldn’t he find a leak within his own Organization?
When he left the hotel this morning Viper was getting ready to go out, and it hadn’t escaped his notice that she wasn’t wearing her back or ankle holsters. That meant no weapons, which meant she was going somewhere she couldn’t take them. He didn’t like the idea of her wandering around unarmed when they had no idea who might be watching.
Hawk frowned, his own weapon sitting comfortably in his holster. There were only a handful of buildings with security measures stringent enough to make her leave her ever-present .45 behind. The Embassy seemed the most likely destination. He glanced at his watch and turned to hail a cab. Charlie told her to look for a soldier, and the Embassy was the quickest way to do that.
A cab pulled up and Damon got in, giving the driver the hotel address. As the car began to move, he turned his attention out the window. So much for a relaxing few days with his Jersey Girl. At this rate he wouldn’t be able to show her anything of the city. He sighed silently.
One day, he promised himself. One day they wouldn’t be bound to a brilliant spy-master. One day their time would be their own.
And he had every intention of grabbing that time with both hands and not letting go.
Blake Hanover held the leash with one hand while he unlocked his front door with the other. Buddy, his fifty-pound pit bull, stood next to him on the doorstep with his tongue hanging out. After leaving the city morgue earlier, Blake went back to the office and worked on his report from Sunday’s bomb escapade. It was past six before he left the office to run some errands. As a result, it was pushing nine o’clock before he got home. When he walked in, Buddy was practically standing with his legs crossed.
Blake opened the door and Buddy shoved past him into the house. He followed, closing the door behind him.
“Ok, ok,” he muttered as Buddy pulled on the leash, trying to get through the living room to his water bowl in the kitchen. “Give me a second already!”
Blake reached down to unhook the leash from his collar, straightening up as Buddy started for the kitchen. Suddenly the dog pulled up short, a low growl coming from deep in his throat.
Blake froze. Buddy was staring into the dining room, his whole body still and tense, his top lip curling back. Without thinking, Blake reached for his gun, unsnapping his holster as he moved forward slowly.
“What is it boy?” he murmured, moving next to his dog.
Buddy glanced at him, then returned his attention to the dining room. The growling had stopped now that his master was beside him, and Blake dropped a calming hand on the top of his head.
“Easy.”
He pulled his weapon out of his holster and moved forward silently, sliding the safety off as he went. Reaching the door to the dining room, Blake kept his back to the edge of the wall and looked in. A quick glance was enough to assure him that the room was empty. Empty, but not undisturbed. A frown settled on his lips as Blake stared ac
ross the room at the open window.
That window was always closed and locked.
Blake glanced behind him and watched as Buddy sat down, staring at him.
“Some guard dog you are. You’re just gonna sit there and watch?”
Buddy’s response was to yawn widely and stretch out his front legs, resting his large head on his paws. Blake grinned and shook his head, moving past the dining room to the kitchen. He listened to the deafening silence in the condo, straining to hear the slightest sound that would indicate an intruder, but there was nothing.
Blake looked around the kitchen, noting that nothing had been moved since he dropped his mail on the counter before taking Buddy out. The stack of mail was just where he left it, undisturbed. He moved on toward the bedroom at the rear of the hallway, his pistol ready near his shoulder. Despite the silence, his heart was pounding in his ears as he moved silently into his bedroom. He reached out and flipped the light switch on the wall.
No intruders jumped out at him. The room was just as it had been this morning. Blake wasn’t a man for clutter. A queen-sized bed, mission-style dresser, and one bedside table were the only furnishings in the large master bedroom. There was nowhere for an intruder to hide and, once Blake glanced behind the door, his shoulders began to relax.
He strode over to the open closet door and glanced into the walk-in closet. It was empty.
Turning, Blake looked around the bedroom with a frown. Nothing was out of place. He strode out of the bedroom and across to the bathroom. After checking behind the shower curtain and in the linen closet, he holstered his gun and moved back down the hallway.
Buddy was still stretched out on the floor outside the dining room, watching him with his big, dog eyes, and Blake moved past him into the living room. He looked around. The TV was still mounted on the wall, the entertainment system was still on the rack beneath it, and his laptop was still plugged in and sitting on the desk in the corner.
