Mind of Danger (Body of Danger, #3)

by Bristol, Sidney

  “I don’t know.” Torres threw up his hands. “I’ve asked before. They aren’t on any sales sheet I’ve ever seen, and I’m the top sales person. They won’t tell me anything, except it’s none of my business. But...”

  “But?”

  Torres grimaced and glanced around. “Something’s just not right here.”

  “What do you mean, not right?”

  Torres paced a few feet away, then spun, hand covering his mouth. “I’ve been here for three years. Most people don’t last more than two here, so I’m unusual outside of the executives. Over the last three years, eight of my biggest clients have suddenly gone belly up.”

  “Dead?”

  “No, they go bankrupt or lose a ton of money and can’t afford us anymore. None of it makes sense. A few weeks before each account was closed, someone from the executive level will come and ask for their file, saying they want to show them appreciation or whatever. They don’t do this for everyone.”

  “You think—what? They’re using all this information you have on these people to protect them as blackmail?” The pieces were falling into place in Elias’s head.

  Torres shook his head. “I don’t know.”

  “Security protocol seven activated,” Jo cheered. The sound was cut short. “Shit. Elias, there are three headed your way. They aren’t looking at anything. I think... I think they know where you are.”

  “Leave the office, go two doors down on your left and hide in there,” Isaac ordered.

  “Key?” Elias held out his hand.

  Torres only hesitated a half second before thrusting it into Elias’s hand.

  Elias cracked open the office door and peered out on the now empty hall. He reached back and grabbed a handful of Torres’ jacket, hauling the younger man after him.

  Harsh voices drifted to them, coming closer.

  They weren’t speaking English. That backed up what Isaac had said about them being connected to the Russian side of things.

  Elias swiped the keycard over the door two down and ducked into the dark room. It wasn’t even an office, just a closet. He shoved the door shut behind Torres and moved to the side, drawing his weapon in the pitch darkness of the closet.

  “What are we doing? What’s happening?” Torres whispered.

  “I’ll fill you in when we get out. Quiet,” Elias whispered.

  The voices came closer.

  Another electric beep and a door banged open.

  “Nyet,” one voice said.

  That was Russian. One of the simplest words.

  No.

  They knew Elias, at least, wasn’t there. They might not even know Torres had come to Elias’s rescue.

  He closed his eyes, focusing on all the sounds coming to him. The footsteps. The garbled words. The doors. He could hear voices through the walls from other offices. Isaac and Jo were oddly quiet.

  “They’re moving away from you now, checking offices,” Isaac said.

  “Torres, why did you want me to be with Aegis Group?” Elias asked.

  “Because, they always seem to swoop in and save the day,” Torres whispered. “I hear stories. Crazy stories from clients. I figure, if things are going south, I want to be where you are.”

  “Hall is clear. Keep going left, there’s a stairwell on your left. Go. Now,” Isaac barked.

  “Listen to him,” Jo said.

  Elias nodded, as if they could see him. “Torres? Stay close behind me.”

  “You bet.” Torres’ voice actually wavered.

  “You have any combat training? Any active shooter drills?”

  “Yeah, active shooter drills.”

  “Okay, so you know to keep your head down, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll go first, but I want you ahead of me. We know they’re behind us. I’m wearing body armor. You aren’t.”

  “Elias...” Jo whispered.

  He shut out her voice, and the concern laced through it.

  Elias gripped the door and turned the handle just enough to peer out.

  The place was a ghost town.

  “Let’s move,” he whispered and stepped out.

  Torres was with him every step, squeezing out and bending low. Elias kept his left hand on the guy’s shoulder while watching their six.

  “There are two circling back,” Isaac said.

  “Move faster,” Jo urged.

  Torres must have sensed the order, because he started jogging.

  The sign for the stairs loomed ahead.

  Elias turned, facing the way they’d come, gun still pointed at the ground.

  Another beep and the stairwell door opened. He cringed at the loud, metal on metal sound of it, but nothing could be done.

  Someone called out, and another man answered.

  “Go,” Jo bellowed.

  Elias dove through the open door and shouldered it closed.

  “Great, now—” Jo’s words were cut off by a distant boom.

  “Jo?” Elias lurched for the stairs. “Jo?”

  “The door! Get the door,” Jo screamed.

  Fuck. They’d been so focused on getting Elias and Torres to safety, they hadn’t been looking after themselves.

  7.

  Thursday. Eagle Tech, Seattle, Washington.

  Jo threw her weight against the metal door. They couldn’t fire through it. Not metal this thick, so she was safe from that threat. But there would be nothing to hide behind if those men got in here.

  This was all her fault.

  At least Elias and Torres could get out. They knew the truth. She didn’t want to die, but at least she’d finally shown Elias how she felt. She could die knowing she’d reached for what she wanted, and that this case wouldn’t end with her. Elias would never allow that to happen.

  “Fuck you, Jo. Fuck you and all of this,” Isaac wailed as he ran headlong into the door with her.

  The door thunked shut, and the lock reengaged.

  She blew out a breath and knew her relief would be short-lived.

  There wasn’t another way out of here.

  “Jo? Jo, talk to me?” Elias begged in her ear.

  “Get your ass here or we are dead,” Isaac yelled, as if he needed to be louder to be heard by the comms.

  “No,” Jo snapped. “Elias, get out of here. I’ve got a plan. We’re going to do that fake-out, remember? We’ve got this.”

  Isaac stared at her. “I need my gun back.”

  The door chirped, and the locks disengaged. It was now a brute force pushing match,, and the odds were not on her side. She braced her foot harder while reaching for the other weapon.

  Did she trust Isaac? Could she?

  She didn’t know.

  But one way or another, she probably wasn’t coming out of this alive. What did it matter which of her enemies shot her?

  Someone shoved at the door, but with the two of them bracing it, the thing barely budged.

  “How many of them are there?” Isaac asked.

  “I don’t know.” She thrust the gun at Isaac.

  “There aren’t any bullets,” he snapped back.

  She yanked a loaded magazine out of her pocket. Thank goodness she’d brought more bullets.

  Isaac snatched it and quickly reloaded his gun.

  “How many?” he asked again.

  “I told you I don’t fucking know.”

  Isaac glanced back at the screen. “Hold on.”

  “Isaac!” If she could have snatched him back she would have.

  He raced across to the monitors, his fingers flying.

  “We’re almost there,” Elias said.

  “Don’t. Don’t come,” she begged.

  “It’s just three. There’s only three of them.” Isaac whirled toward her, gun in hand, eyes wide and bright.

  Three guys?

  The fake-out might work.

  She locked eyes with Isaac. “You ready?”

  The brightness dimmed. “What?”

  “Shoot. Just—shoot.”


  Okay, so it wasn’t the fake-out plan, but they still might pull this off.

  She held her left hand against the door and drew her gun with her right. They weren’t doing more than pounding on the door with fists or other weapons, likely to scare them. She got her feet under her, and took a step away, to the right of the door, and lifted her gun.

  Jo counted to five.

  The door burst open, no chirp this time.

  Isaac screamed and fired.

  Jo exhaled and squeezed the trigger, aiming for the fleshy bits she saw between collar and helmet. The bodies ceased being human in her head. It was target practice. That was all it was.

  The first two went down fast, caught completely unaware. They were too focused on Isaac and his yelling.

  The third ducked out of view in the hall.

  They had this.

  She pressed her back to the wall. There would be others. Back-up coming this way. And Elias. She would never forgive herself for dragging him into this.

  “Did we get them?” Isaac’s voice wavered.

  Had the man ever shot at people before?

  A distant part of her mind warned her that she was probably lucky he hadn’t shot her on accident. Or on purpose. The first thing she was doing if they made it out of here was taking that gun away from him.

  She edged toward the door, listening and looking for the third man.

  Where was he?

  Jo gathered herself and pivoted, gun up. At the same moment a hand wrapped around her wrist, yanking her forward and into the hall.

  The third target.

  She stepped into the momentum, adding another turn so she was now on the man’s other side, his back toward the door. He reacted just as fast, driving his fist into her side. She struck out with her left hand, but only hit the body armor.

  Isaac was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t coming to her rescue.

  The damn spineless coward.

  She roared and threw her weight into the man, doing her best to surprise him. But he was built like a mountain.

  This was bad.

  Very bad.

  A hand dug into her hair, twisting it so painfully. He pressed his gun to her side, right where he’d struck her, and leaned down to stare into her eyes.

  He was enjoying this.

  Fear raced through her. Real terror. He didn’t just want to kill her, he wanted to hurt her. To make these last moments a nightmare.

  “Jo!” a familiar voice bellowed, followed by a gunshot.

  The man’s eyes went wide, then the life went out of them. His grip tightened, and he almost dragged her to the ground if his grip hadn’t faltered.

  She stood there, gasping for breath, her head and side alight with pain.

  “Jo? Jo, are you okay?” Elias rushed toward her and cupped her face in his hand. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Isaac?” She couldn’t put any other words together. Her brain was too addled.

  “Did you kill them? Are they gone?” Isaac’s head emerged from the doorway, followed by the rest of him.

  “Oh my—oh my God...” A dark haired man that had to be Torres held the door to the stairs open.

  “We need to move.” Elias kept a tight grip on her arm, which she needed.

  Together their little group retreated to the stairs where bangs resounded in the tight space. Someone was trying to force their way in from above.

  “There can’t be more than a dozen of them, three on each floor,” Elias said as they moved.

  “Now there’s nine.”

  “Exactly.”

  “This stair? There’s an emergency exit. We won’t even have to go back inside.” Poor Torres was at the end of his rope.

  Above them a door banged open with violence. A moment later the door crashed down from above, falling to the ground floor.

  Words he couldn’t understand filled the space behind them.

  “Go. Run,” Elias shouted.

  She took the stairs two and three at a time, leaping down.

  More words pelted them, and then the shooting started. Bullets ricochet off the metal railing. She plastered herself to the wall as best she could, giving them no direct shot. Isaac and Torres screamed while Elias’s grip on her only tightened to a painful level.

  This had to be hell on him. She had to get him out of here.

  Isaac hit the door first followed by Torres.

  It didn’t budge.

  “Use the key. The fucking key,” Isaac screamed.

  Torres reached out, but dropped a plastic key card.

  Jo went to her knees, scooping it up and holding it to the keypad.

  The light glinted green.

  Elias scooped her up with one arm. Torres yanked the door open, and they dove out, squeezing through the door almost as one into the bright sunshine of a Seattle afternoon, the crisp air almost burning her lungs.

  “Freeze!”

  “Hands up!”

  She blinked at the three police cars and armed officers aiming weapons at her.

  Elias practically tackled her and Torres to the ground. She found his arm and squeezed him, not caring one bit about road rash, bruises or any of it.

  They’d made it out, thanks to him. The guy who always had her back no matter what she asked of him.

  God, she loved this man.

  THURSDAY. FBI OFFICES, Seattle, Washington.

  Elias paced the small room. The FBI had quickly brought all of them to this building and kept them separated the entire time. Obviously the FBI didn’t want them corroborating their stories.

  So far he had spoken to Rusty, an FBI agent who’d worked with Aegis Group a number of times. From the way Rusty talked, this was his operation they’d stumbled into it. The questions he asked Elias sounded more like he’d just been confirming things he already knew.

  Now what?

  He checked the clock.

  It was late.

  Had a doctor seen Jo? Had they gotten her to eat?

  Lunch had been gas station food.

  God, he hoped someone was looking out for her.

  Elias reached the far wall and turned as the door opened and Zain stepped in.

  Oh, shit.

  Elias stopped with a good eight feet of space between them while Zain closed the door. He was dressed casually in jeans and a dark T-shirt. His left arm, a high-tech prosthetic, flashed a line of red and green lights down to his fingertips.

  That was new.

  A festive alteration?

  “Sit.” Zain didn’t exactly snap the word, but there was emphasis behind it. From the deep lines around his mouth and the hard stare, it was easy to discern that he wasn’t happy.

  Elias crossed to the desk, pushed against the wall and pulled out the flimsy, plastic chair for himself, leaving the rolling desk chair for Zain, who remained standing.

  They stayed like that for several moments, Zain studying Elias while Elias stared at the floor.

  “What were you thinking? Seriously?” Zain finally said.

  “Just... I don’t know. She called, it was a simple favor that snowballed...”

  Zain yanked the desk chair out and sat down almost knee to knee with Elias. “That’s not what I’m talking about. Why didn’t you fucking call me the moment you realized it wasn’t a simple favor? Come on, man. You know better than this. We’re a God damn team, but we can’t be there to support you if you don’t say a fucking thing.”

  Elias stared at Zain, unsure what to say. Elias opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

  This was not what he’d expected.

  “For fuck’s sake, Elias...” Zain leaned back and massaged his temple. “You are, hands-down, our best sales person. But more than that, you always seem to know how to handle clients. I need for you to talk to yourself like a client.”

  “Um, okay.” Elias shifted in his seat.

  “What would you say to someone who hired us?” Zain leaned forward, his prosthetic elbow on his knee.

  “Well, I’d say our peop
le will handle this. That it’s our job.”

  “Okay, so if you’re part of this team, why is it any different? When has it been different?”

  Elias glanced away.

  “My one bit of feedback is that you seem to still consider yourself apart from our team. I wish I’d have been your first call instead of having to track your ass down. My wife’s not too happy about having to pause our holiday Star Wars marathon, I’ll have you know.”

  He winced. “Sorry.”

  “I’m not the one you’ll have to apologize to for that one.” Zain chuckled and leaned back again, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, man, I can’t pretend to know or understand what you’ve been through. I’ve obviously got my own baggage. But I need you to get on board with one thing, or this isn’t going to work. At Aegis Group, we are a team. If we’re in hot water, we call each other. If you fucked up and got into something you shouldn’t, we’ll worry about that after the situation has been handled. But we are a team first.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “No, buts, dude. It’s that way if you’re an in-the-field guy or if you’re a behind-the-scenes guy. We don’t differentiate. We are all a team and we can’t have one of our people going off on their own. Don’t you think we’ve all lost enough already?”

  A lump lodged itself in Elias’ throat, making it impossible to breathe.

  They sat there in silence for a few moments while Elias processed Zain’s words.

  “Yeah, okay.” Elias nodded. Anything else was beyond him.

  “We good? Will I need to have this talk with you again?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Okay. Take a minute and then we’re going to convene in the big conference room. Looks like we’ll be supporting this operation from here on out.”

  “What?” Elias’ head snapped up.

  “Yeah.” Zain chuckled. “You just can’t have an easy Christmas, can you, dude?”

  “Jo. Is she okay? What’s going on?”

  “She says she’s fine. I’m guessing she’s got a few bruised ribs, but she’s one tough soldier. I did hear her threaten bodily harm to Owen and Rusty if they didn’t let her see you.” Zain grinned. “I think you better save them. But, take a moment first, got it?”