The rear window exploded in a shower of safety glass. I detected muzzle flares in the mirrors. The wankers were shooting at us.
“Lucien!”
“I’m on it.”
His hand disappeared inside my shearling coat, and he dragged my Walther free of the holster. Facing backward, he aimed at the sedan. “Duck, Baxter.”
Baxter dove to the left.
The shot reverberated loudly in the confines of the SUV. Another loud ping slapped our back end. Their aim was atrocious, but honestly, most people couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn when traveling in a speeding vehicle.
Lucien was a much better aim and scored a direct hit on their front window. Blood splattered on the right side of the windscreen. The man in the passenger seat didn’t make it.
“Hang on,” I shouted again.
I crushed my boot on the brake to avoid a biker riding down the center of the tree-lined street. A small scream burst out of my mouth as I turned the wheel as far over as I could, spinning the car one-hundred-eighty degrees, narrowly avoiding the biker, who steered his bike over the embankment and into the canal.
I gunned the engine, shooting straight for the sedan in a deadly game of chicken. At the last second, I spun my car to the right. To avoid ramming us, he had to steer left. The front half of the car crumpled against a stone abutment with an abrupt halt. Its forward momentum caused the back end of the car to lift, arse over head. The vehicle teetered upright for a brief moment, then crashed to the left. The steel and stone guardrail was the only thing that kept the car from plunging into the waterway.
Counting on Lucien to keep an eye out for survivors, I slammed the gearshift into park and leaned back against the headrest, hauling in heavy breaths. In the distance, the oscillating wail of police sirens, a lot of them, sounded. They were getting closer.
I felt the seat give as Baxter braced his hands and propelled his body to the forward half of the car. In the sudden quiet in the cabin, Baxter’s heartbeat boomed and raced. “What the hell, Jayne?”
“I didn’t want to hurt a human.”
“You could have killed us all and jeopardized the mission. Did you think of that?”
“Back off, Tamsyn. It ended well.”
“Is everybody okay?” Greyson asked through Drax’s GPS doohickey.
“We’re fine, but the other guys seem to be deceased,” Lucien assured the command center, glaring at Baxter.
“Do we need to dispatch cleaners?”
“Not necessary,” Lucien replied. “I’ve already texted the DIA. These assholes were destined for Hell anyway. We’ve got this.”
A black panel van rounded the corner, followed by a tow truck. The driver and passenger of the truck climbed out and pulled a stretcher from the backend. After a quick nod our direction, they got right to work extricating the bodies from the mangled car. Personnel from the tow truck hooked cables to the axle.
“Do you need directions to the airport from where you are?”
I shook my head and replied. “No, I’ve got this. But the rental car is pretty shot up. Can you call a repair service to fix the damage and return it for us? We won’t have time. We need to get airborne as quickly as possible.”
“Absolutely. Consider it handled.”
Before I disconnected the disc, a message popped up at the bottom of the display. Another text from Samuel Harding.
Baxter lunged forward, grabbed his mobile, and dismissed the text alert, making it vanish from the display. Harding’s name niggled at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t place it. I decided I’d worry about it later and dropped the car back into gear.
Hands shaking and still gulping air, in part to replace the energy depleted by my fraught nerves, I navigated along the peaceful channel until I reached Ligovsky Avenue. I turned right again, feeling like I’d just steered us in a giant circle.
Lucien reached for my hand where it rested on the center console, weaved our fingers together, and gave me a squeeze. I accepted the comforting gesture and clung to his fingers as I drove us to catch our plane back to Rapa Nui.
16
Mission Day 16
Pitcairn Island
The flight back to Pitcairn aboard the Gulfstream was fast and thankfully uneventful. I’d spent part of the time cleaning my weapons and loading spare magazines. The other part of the time I studied the schematic for Viktor’s lab, committing to memory any possible escape routes, access points, and the locations most likely to house Koszlov’s goon squad.
Lucien was on a conference call with Lucifer. Not only were we dealing with Koszlov, another megalomaniac had popped up on the DIA radar. Lucien hadn’t shared any details as yet, but it appeared that if we survived this mission, there’d be more work in the offing.
Dammit. I needed a vacation. Why couldn’t the bad guys understand that? Even though I’d just come off a forced hiatus to recover, I still craved a few days in a row where I wasn’t being shot at or poisoned. A week on a secluded beach with my demon lover wasn’t a lot to ask.
Baxter had been given the task of arranging the equipment necessary to get us into the underwater access hatch. We’d need scuba gear, weaponry, and diver propulsion vehicles, underwater sleds, to get us from our drop site one klicks away from the conduit.
I’d overheard him arguing with Penn about the equipment. His tone was haughty and demanding. For fuck’s sake, he was asking for help in about as an unpleasant a manner as possible.
Judging by the texts I’d been receiving from Penn for the duration of their call, the admin wasn’t happy. The messages were terse and frequent. Wanker and this is bollocks and did he really just ask me for a back-up speargun? The final text was a string of emojis that relayed an undeniably graphic message—Bax was a piece of shit that deserved to be shot.
I contained my laughter by sinking one fang into my bottom lip. I was happy to let them duke it out in cyberspace. At least I wasn’t dealing with the madness. And as long as the necessary equipment was waiting for us upon landing, it didn’t matter to me.
Penn had let me know the HMS Dragon was cruising to the extraction point and would be in position once we finished the underground facility. In case we failed, they’d be ready to fire missiles at the Island. We’d better be sure to accomplish what we set out to do. I didn’t want the residents of Rapa to be caught in the crossfire. And UNESCO would be pissed if we destroyed the moai.
Drax and T had both called me while en route, Drax to check on my injections and my general health. I’d assured him all was well, and I was feeling stronger, fit for active duty. I didn’t tell him I’d missed a couple rounds. What good would it do me to worry him? The second Bax reverted back to his bumbling pleasant self, I’d ask him to give me another shot before we landed.
T’s call was more disconcerting. “Jayne, the Director wants Viktor alive.”
“Pardon?” I asked cautiously, beating down the anger making my heart race gallop.
“We want him for questioning in a couple of other matters.”
“What matters are those?”
She cleared her throat. “Nothing for you to be concerned about. It isn’t pertinent to your mission.”
Killing the son of a bitch was damn well pertinent to my peace of mind. “T, you have to reconsider. What if he escapes? What if he becomes a bigger monster than he already is because we allow him to live?”
The scars on my body, courtesy of Viktor, throbbed sharply to life with phantom pain. I rubbed my palm over the deeper ache on my belly.
“Bond, just follow directions. We need him alive.”
“Ma’am, I’m begging you to reconsider.”
“The use of lethal force is not sanctioned, Bond.” Her tone was sharp and final.
Never in my life have I hung up on T, but I jabbed the disconnect button hard enough to crack the mobile’s screen. I wanted to shriek my frustration loud and long.
Instead, I seethed inside and bit my tongue.
“What’s crawled up your
arse?” Lucien asked as he dropped onto the plush leather seat next to me.
“Nothing.”
“Jayne, you’re a poor liar.” He chucked a knuckle under my chin and lifted until I had to look him in the eyes.
I dipped my gaze to the right. “T just had some last-minute instructions.”
“And they pissed you off?”
I squashed my lips together. I couldn’t relay T’s direct order, knowing I’d violate it given half a chance. I didn’t want to incriminate Lucien or Bax when I went rogue on the assignment. This was personal, but I didn’t need to take them down with me.
And I planned to go out flaming. Sanctioned or not, there would be lethal force.
Lucien glided his tongue over my pursed lips, trying to ease them open. Like that would cause me to spill my secret. I’d probably miss him when I was gone. I fully intended to break the rule, and killing Viktor against direct orders would surely earn me the final death. As long as I dispatched Viktor to hell first, I didn’t care. There’d be other agents to step into the breach created by my demise. The comfort of knowing I’d ridded the world of one insane villain would be a balm for the pain I knew awaited me.
I pushed Lucien away. “Let’s focus on the mission, shall we?”
“Fine, for now. But I’ll get it out of you eventually.”
I sent him a rueful smile, then turned my attention back to the schematic I’d been studying.
But my thoughts wandered, and comprehension was less than nil. Finally, I shut the map and my brain down. Like a well-trained operative, I dropped into a power nap, allowing rejuvenating sleep to claim me for the duration of the flight.
Wheels skipping on the tarmac woke me. Palm trees stood out against a tropical blue sky as we taxied to the private hangar. While we approached our destination, I checked my phone for messages. The crack I’d made annoyed me but served as a reminder of T’s order. I scrolled through my email and saw confirmation from Penn for the transfer of funds I’d requisitioned before we’d boarded the flight. A bank employee would meet me at the airfield with the cash I’d ordered. The address I’d asked for was at the bottom of the message, along with his assurance the cabbie had been briefed and everything was ready for my visit.
I only needed a cab and thirty minutes to carry out my plan. And some sort of distraction to keep Lucien and Bax off my trail.
That part I’d play by ear. I searched the contacts on my mobile, looking for the cabbie I’d used on Pitcairn before. Locating the number, I texted him, promising him a substantial bonus on the fare once he arrived at the airport to pick me up. It was only money. I couldn’t take it with me.
His response was instant. He’d be waiting at the curb for me in five minutes.
We deplaned and hurried toward the hangar, anxious to escape the boiling, humid temperature. In the short walk, sweat broke out on my back.
“Our equipment hasn’t arrived yet,” Bax reported.
“How long until the plane is refueled?” I asked, thankful for the delay. It made my rogue mission more doable.
“Thirty to forty-five minutes. The pilot assures me we’ll be ready to depart soon.”
I nodded and scanned the lobby. A man dressed like a banker stood a respectful, discreet distance away near the door to the ladies’ room.
“I’m going to the loo to change.” My thermal T-shirt was overkill in this heat. And exactly the distraction I needed.
Tamsyn delivered an absent smile and proceeded to ignore me in favor of reading his phone. Lucien stood across the lobby of the private aviation company hosting us, munching on papaya slices and chatting up the pretty receptionist.
As casually as possible, I sauntered across the space toward the man in the seersucker shorts and jacket.
“Ms. Bond?” he asked in accented English.
“Yes. Do you have something for me to sign?”
He handed me a small clipboard with a form on it and a pen.”
I scrawled my signature as I watched Bax and Lucien over my shoulder, assuring myself they hadn’t noticed what I was doing.
I traded the clipboard for a fat envelope filled with cash. I nodded my thanks and slipped into the restroom. So far, my plan was flawless. I knew that, eventually, the boys would note my absence and find me via the tracker in my arm. But this was something I needed to do. I quickly changed into a dark red sundress and flip-flops, shoving my discarded clothing in the bag, then crammed the leather satchel under the sink.
There was a small window above the toilet. I scrambled onto the seat and shoved the glass upward. It was small, but I’d shimmied through a smaller pipe at the Thames Barrier. This was a piece of cake. I lowered my Gucci bag to the ground beneath the window then followed it outside.
A heated breeze blasted my skin as I dropped lightly to my feet. My cabbie stood next to his taxi and waved when he saw me. He opened the rear passenger door and assisted me inside before leaping into the driver’s seat.
“Ready, miss?”
I nodded and leaned back as he accelerated away down the drive. A glance over my shoulder verified that my absence hadn’t raised any alarms yet. As it shouldn’t. I was a woman using the facilities. It wouldn’t be chivalrous to call me out on the amount of time I spent in there. A smile crept over my face as we raced away from the airport.
The ten-minute drive took us along a road lined on each side by sandy soil and low scrub vegetation. My phone began ringing about three minutes into the trip. I ignored it, of course.
We passed a few scraggly palms and a grove of purple-flowered jacaranda trees. The cabbie turned right off the desolate road and drove through a neighborhood filled with small shops, a seedy local bar, a couple of apartment buildings, and the types of businesses one would expect in any city, the part of town where the year-round islanders dwelled. The tired, run-down street was definitely not on any tourist map.
My phone continued to ring, and my left forearm heated up. Damn it all! I’d known they would activate the device. I just hadn’t thought it would happen this quickly. Well, at least they could quit worrying about losing me. They knew exactly where I was.
I gazed out the window at men whose expressions were insolent and angry as they stared at the cab. They lounged against trucks that had seen better days. Children played in a puddle created by a recent tropical rain, splashing and cavorting as though the world hadn’t crushed them yet. Exhausted-looking mothers juggled babies on hips, clinging to toddlers’ hands on the other side. It was life.
These people were the reason I did what I did. I might never know them, but I’d open a vein for them. And that sentiment is what ultimately would end my life.
The phone rang again. Lucien’s name splashed across the display.
This time I answered. “I’m fine.”
“Jayne, where the hell are you?”
“I had an errand to run. I’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”
“In case you’ve forgotten, we’re at mission critical.”
In the background, I could hear Bax yelling for me to get my rebel ass back to the airport pronto.
“This is important too, Lucien. I’ll be back before the plane is refueled.”
“Jayne, goddammit, you get back here now.” The anger in Bax’s voice cracked in my ear.
He must have ripped the phone away from Lucien.
“I’ll be back, ” I promised.
I pictured Baxter’s scowl. He’d be red in the face, jaw clenched tighter that his fists.
“I have to report this, Jayne. You’ve gone rogue…gone off the reservation. You’ve jeopardized this mission with your disobedience. T’s going to hear about it.” His tone was razor-sharp and lethal.
“I’ll be back in time. Do what you have to do. I’ll be finishing this mission.” I tapped the disconnect button, cutting off his furious reply.
I fumed for a bit. Who did he think he was, threatening to tattle on me to T? And for what purpose? Why should he care if I disappeared for thirty minutes?
“It’s just ahead, miss.” The driver interrupted my thoughts.
He made another turn, and the scenery shifted again for the worse. We’d driven into a tent city. The car lurched along a road marred by potholes. Even the deteriorating road soon gave way to a gravel and sand street. A decrepit, desperate last stop for those citizens down on their luck. The location was a place that had to be terrifying to live. I patted my purse, happily touching the solid chunk of metal that was my gun.
The cabbie’s heartbeat accelerated as we navigated the crooked lane. He didn’t like this neighborhood any more than I did.
The brakes squeaked as he pulled to a stop. “Thierry-Sue is a good woman. She used to work for the taxi office before she married Tomas. She doesn’t deserve what happened to her. And I know she misses her husband. I am glad you’re helping her.”
If he hadn’t worked for Viktor, the woman’s husband might still be alive. Every bad thing that had happened in the last three weeks could be laid at Viktor’s feet. And this was but a tiny step at stopping him.
“Is everything set at her new place?” I asked.
“Yes. My sister has a house in town. She will take on the boarder and her children.”
“Good.”
The driver flicked his glance around nervously. “You want me to wait?”
“Yes, please. I won’t be long.”
“Okay.”
He slouched in the seat, making himself a smaller target. He reached into the glove box and withdrew an antique revolver, complete with pearl grip.
With the fat envelope clutched in one hand, I exited the taxi. I hiked my bag up on my shoulder and jammed my hand inside, wrapping my fingers around the butt of the Walther. The denizens of this place didn’t scare me, but I couldn’t be sure some of Viktor’s henchmen weren’t hanging about.
I picked my way past a couple broken toys and a bucket filled with dank water. There wasn’t any grass in the patchy space in front of the makeshift house. Part tent, part cardboard…and all reeking of abject poverty.
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