Surrender

by Lisa Renee Jones

  “Death lives here,” I say softly as we round a corner, a chill running down my spine as huge, open double wooden doors come into view. “I feel it.”

  “As do I,” he agrees. “Every damn second I’m in this tower.”

  “Somehow that makes the War Room being located here feel like perfection,” I say.

  “Exactly my thought,” he says, his voice a tight band of tension that seems to rip and pull around us as we step in unison, his energy shifting and changing with each second that passes, the walk seeming to last forever.

  The sound of our booted feet on the stone floor is hypnotic. Unbidden, it delivers me back in time into a new memory.

  I’m inside some sort of gym, a training facility I believe, and a group of students in the same blue sweats and T-shirts are standing around a mat to watch a fight. I blink and discover that I’m in that fight and my opponent isn’t a woman. It’s a man who I’ve managed to flatten on his back, land my foot in his chest, and twist his arm.

  “You fight like a girl,” he mocks.

  “Says the girl on the ground,” I retort, laughter erupting around us.

  “Finish him.” I look up to see our instructor, a big, intimidating black man standing on the other side of my opponent.

  “He’s down,” I say.

  “And mocking you. Make him hurt.”

  “He’s another student. This isn’t like—”

  He leans in closer. “He’s mocking you. And guess what, little one? Your fellow agents can turn bad. Targets will grow on you, and many will feel like friends, but you still have to take them out when they turn on you. Grow some balls or get out of my facility.”

  “I’ve proven I can take him out.”

  “Halfway out,” he corrects. “We win here, no matter what that takes. And if you think compassion erases your past, it doesn’t. If you think anyone in the agency will work with you, trust you, or like you because you have compassion, think again. You will be the girl who won’t kill the enemy trying to kill her.” He looks up and around at the students. “The ones who end up on the ground are out. You’re gone. You die this death on the mat, and I save you from another death.”

  The man on the ground makes a move, twisting toward me, and instinct kicks in. I’m small; he’s large. If I go down, I won’t get back up. I stomp on his chest and twist his arm as he tries to sweep my leg out from under me, and the result is bone crunching, his shoulder snapping. He screams in pain and my stomach knots.

  My instructor leans in close. “That’s the daughter of Charlie Ferguson I was looking for. Win at all costs, or die forgotten.”

  I blink again and we’re a foot from our destination, a million thoughts in my mind that I don’t have time to dissect. We are at the wooden doors, and I am about to become part of Kayden’s world in a whole new way.

  He knows it, too, I know he does, and that’s why he stops and turns to look at me. “Ella—”

  “Win at all costs or die forgotten,” I say. “Something someone said to me once. It’s true.”

  “Who said that to you?”

  “It doesn’t matter who,” I say. “It’s what it means to you and me. Whatever it takes, Kayden, and whatever that means, win. And I plan to win with you.”

  His eyes narrow, some emotion in their depths I cannot name before he gives me a small nod and faces the door. Together we seem to breathe in, as if bracing ourselves for something life changing or relationship changing before we step forward into the room. All voices go silent at the sight of us, despite the expectation I would be here for this meeting. Maybe it’s seeing Kayden and me together like this. Maybe it’s sudden distrust. I do not know. But there is an obvious, drawn-out pause in the room in which all eyes are on me.

  I catalog the room, taking in what is before me, remotely aware of a wall of monitors on one side of the space and a wall of maps on the other, while my key focus is on the giant round stone table in the center of the room. Eleven black leather chairs surround it, and one brown, that one etched with a hawk. Of those twelve total seats, five are filled with the Hunters Kayden has chosen for this challenge. But it’s the table that really draws my attention, particularly the etched design in the center that matches Kayden’s tattoo on his arm. A box, with chess pieces and the Italian words translated to “Once the game is over, the king and the pawn go back in the same box.” In death we are all equal. Win at all costs or die forgotten. It’s the same message. How is it the same message?

  Kayden motions me to the right, and I shake off that thought better explored later, quickly rounding the table toward my seat next to the brown one, and beside Sasha, while Matteo is on her opposite side. Since the last thing I need is to look like the supporting cast that needs support, I quickly reach for my chair, praying Kayden doesn’t attempt to be the gentleman he is and help me with it. Thankfully, he’s in tune with me on this and does no such thing, settling into his spot beside me at almost the same moment I do mine. Fortunately, Kayden is angled at just the right position for me to see his face and gauge his reactions to whatever takes place. Unfortunately, Carlo, of all people, is now sitting directly in front of me, center to Nathan, who is to my right, and Adriel, to my left.

  “Everyone here has been briefed on the necklace,” Kayden states, getting right to the point, “and those of you chosen to attend this meeting were chosen for something unique you bring to the table. You all know what that reason is as it relates to you. But hear me on this: in turn, you’re being trusted at a level that reaches well beyond that of your fellow Hunters. Should you betray me on this, you will see a side of me that you have never seen. Are we all clear?”

  Each of them raises a hand, as if this is standard, and I follow suit, only to have Carlo home in on me, silently questioning my presence in a way he soon will not.

  “If that necklace falls into the hands of the wrong person,” Kayden continues, “it will give their illicit organization the kind of power we never want them to have. This isn’t a treasure. Anything worth this kind of money, with an active buyer who wants it, is a weapon we have to protect.”

  “Who is the buyer?” I ask.

  “Two billionaires who are willing to bid against each other,” Kayden says. “The ceiling seems to be three hundred million, the actual evaluation of the necklace is closer to two hundred million. And why are they willing to pay this kind of money for a necklace? It seems to be a game to them. It’s all about the power.”

  Carlo chimes in on that one. “Two rich men with mobs, cartels, and governments chasing their tails. It’s insanity.”

  “It is insanity,” Sasha agrees. “These men have no regard for the damage this could do to entire countries. I don’t even want to think about the impact of Niccolo or Neuville adding three hundred million dollars to their treasure chest.”

  “At least Niccolo and Neuville operate with a mob code, no matter how fucked up it might be,” Carlo replies. “Alessandro has no code but greed, and that’s a dangerous way to operate.”

  “Indeed,” Nathan agrees. “I’ve seen too much blood, thanks to the Hunters he turned into lawless pirates.” He eyes Kayden, shifting the topic. “I take it we have a lead on its location,” Nathan surmises, “or we wouldn’t be here.” It’s a statement rather than a question.

  “We have a lead,” Kayden confirms, and then offering little more by clear intent, adds, “but not a definitive location.”

  “What’s the lead and the source?” Carlo presses.

  “More importantly,” Matteo asks, “is there anything I can do on my end to make that lead a little more solid?”

  “More importantly,” Sasha says, “if this lead does pan out, if we find the necklace, what’s next? What do we do with it to ensure it doesn’t end up in the wrong hands?”

  “We deliver it to the British government’s museum vault,” Kayden replies. “They have now officially contrac
ted our services, with the understanding that we remain anonymous to avoid any backlash.”

  “I want to go on record as saying I have reservations about handing over the necklace to the very people who lost it in the first place,” Carlo states.

  “They own it,” Adriel reminds him.

  “Finders, keepers,” Carlo says. “That’s the Jackals’ motto.”

  “And ours,” Kayden says, “is to do our jobs right and get paid. That said, I’m no fool and I don’t expect you to be. Our job is to find the necklace and set up security that ensures it doesn’t disappear again; in return, I’ve negotiated a generous fee. After all, we are handing over three hundred million dollars.”

  “How much?” Carlo asks. “Because in my experience, governments are cheap-ass—”

  “Five million apiece,” Kayden says.

  Palpable shock radiates through the room with this stunning news, and Matteo lets out a whistle. “That’s a big prize. I’m counting seven of us in this room, if Ella is included in the split.”

  “I’m not in that number,” I say.

  “She is in that number,” Kayden counters, his eyes meeting mine. “You hunt. You get paid.”

  “I don’t—”

  “You do,” he assures me, his attention landing on Carlo. “You’re getting paid. That’s the point here.”

  “Hear that?” Sasha asks, holding a hand to her ear. “That’s the sound of silence while Carlo eats his tongue.”

  Kayden continues. “Moving on to the players competing in this game, I count four.”

  “Four?” Nathan asks. “I count Niccolo, Neuville, and Alessandro. Who else is there?”

  “I’ve loosely added Raul Martinez,” Kayden explains. “After the Enzo debacle he made his interest clear, but we’ll come back to him. I want to start with Niccolo, as our local major player.”

  “Who was, interestingly enough, hunting Ella,” Carlo comments.

  “And who wants the necklace,” Kayden says, not taking the bait, and making it clear that he’ll talk about what he wants, when he wants. “He also wants us to work for him while Alessandro works for him as well.”

  “Which we declined, correct?” Sasha asks.

  “Many times,” Kayden replies, “but we’re allowing him to believe we could be swayed, because (A) he says he’s made a deal with Raul to get him to walk away from the necklace and we have a finger on that activity, (B) he’s blackmailing Alessandro and promised me the documents being used against him, (C) this gives us insight into three of the four players, and finally, (D) we believe Niccolo has cancer and we need a bird’s-eye view of how that affects his operation.”

  “Wait,” Sasha says, flattening her hands on the desk. “Of all the things you just said that blew my mind, Niccolo having cancer is the only one I can process. That’s almost too bittersweet to digest. It’s karma. Pure, unadulterated karma.”

  “Before you celebrate,” Nathan says, “keep in mind that people who are dying have nothing to lose. That makes them unpredictable, and Niccolo was dangerous before that word came into play.” He glances between Kayden and me. “How do we know this? Do we have medical proof?”

  “I’ve been working on proof,” Matteo chimes in, “and yes, he has cancer. He’s got an aggressive form of leukemia; it was caught in the late stages. He’s recently undergone an experimental treatment, though with good results.”

  I glance at Kayden. “That’s what his coded references to beating karma were in the car.”

  “Agreed,” he says, and then to the entire table, “and as much as I want to kill that bastard, or even better, see him suffer a slow, horrible death, we’ve determined that the longer he’s in play, and we’re in play with him, the longer we’ll have that three-for-one navigational hit.”

  “Considering our concerns about his successor,” Nathan interjects, “I need to caution here that no matter what his current prognosis is, cancer is an unpredictable beast. We could see him turn for the worse at any moment and be left with a replacement that lends havoc to the entire country.”

  “Which is exactly where I was going next,” Kayden says with no hesitation, his eyes meeting mine for the briefest of moments before he scans all eyes looking at him. “We choose to be mere Hunters or far more, and I have, and always will, see us as equalizers. Regardless of where the necklace may be, but most certainly with it in play, we will take the responsibility of ensuring stability in Europe. In other words, we take out Niccolo’s second.”

  Kill him, he means, and I wait for that to punch me in the chest, to turn my stomach, but it doesn’t. There is a bigger picture here indeed, and I can almost hear voices in my past telling me that fearlessly taking the action no one else will is often necessary.

  “Our man is close to Niccolo’s second,” Adriel says. “And we need to keep him there, which means this needs to look like an accident.”

  Kayden turns his attention to Nathan. “What do you have for us?”

  “Heart attack in a vial,” he says with no hesitation. He’s my compassionate doctor, a man who cares about lives the way I see Kayden caring about lives, but he’s cold, and focused, in this reality that is a silent war.

  “I need it tonight,” Adriel replies. “I can reach out to our man under the shelter of rain and get this done in the next seventy-two hours.”

  “I can make that happen,” Nathan confirms.

  “Then I’ll consider this handled,” Kayden replies, shifting topics. “Circling back to Raul. If Niccolo takes a turn for the worse, any deal between the two can be assumed void. Matteo, I need you to create some kind of disaster in his U.S. operation that will guarantee Raul’s return to the States.”

  Matteo rubs his hands together. “I love this kind of project. A huge dose of chaos coming up. Consider it done.”

  “What about Alessandro?” Carlo asks, going back to his sweet spot.

  “He’s a problem for reasons I haven’t even begun to discuss,” Kayden says. “But I’ve given Niccolo an ultimatum. If he wants our help, we get the goods on Alessandro, which he claims will be delivered here by sundown.”

  Carlo lifts his arm and glances at his watch. “That would be now. Are we sure he’s going to come through?”

  I tune out Kayden’s reply as my gaze lands on the Cartier watch on Carlo’s wrist, so like the one Kayden threw away because it resembled the watch Garner Neuville wears. I have a flash of images in my head, familiar hated images that Kayden has done much to wash away but they are here now, demanding I put together another piece of my puzzle. A hand touching me, that watch below a white cuffed shirt. But those images are of Garner Neuville. Why do Carlo, Kayden, and Neuville all have that same watch? That’s too much of a coincidence for me to believe is possible.

  Carlo leans forward, resting his arms on the table and lacing his fingers together. “Why are you staring at me, Ella?”

  “You’re a hard person to figure out.”

  “No,” he says, the air suddenly crackling around us. “That’s not why you’re staring at me. If you have something to say, say it.”

  I now have to decide if I’m going to confront him or take this to Kayden privately. I want to look at Kayden, but to be the woman by his side, I have to stand tall, like he does. I’m cornered and if I don’t punch my way out, I’ll have no respect in this room and beyond. But accusing one of them of betrayal might not be smart, either. I’m about to let it go when a horrible thought occurs to me.

  As if he senses it, Kayden reaches down and squeezes my leg, urging me to look at him, but another sudden, horrible thought crosses my mind, and all calculation goes out the window. “Where did you get that watch, Carlo?”

  I feel Kayden’s attention riveted to Carlo’s wrist; feel the moment he realizes what that watch looks like, even before he says, “Yes, Carlo,” his hands in front of him, lacing his fingers as if forcing control
. “Where did you get that watch?”

  “Gifted by a client last week,” Carlo says with no hesitation, and my bad feeling about this gets worse.

  “That’s a twenty-thousand-dollar watch,” Kayden says. “A generous gift for a job I wasn’t briefed on. What client and what job?”

  “It was on the books, Kayden,” Carlo says. “Matteo sent me the assignment, like he does all the jobs I take now.”

  “Matteo assigns jobs?” I ask. I need to learn the internal workings of The Underground now, not later.

  “I keep the database and check out the clients,” Matteo replies. “If they aren’t standard fare, they go to Kayden for approval. This one was standard fare.”

  “Name,” Kayden bites out.

  “Alicio Petit,” Carlo supplies.

  “I checked him out,” Matteo says. “Married guy looking for a file with pictures of him and his girlfriend that his ex–business partner was using to blackmail him. Carlo and I found it and returned it to him.” He grimaces. “I, however, didn’t get a twenty-thousand-dollar watch.”

  “Find a connection between that man and Garner Neuville,” Kayden commands. “Somewhere, it exists. Open your computer and find it now.”

  Carlo looks between us. “What is this about?”

  “Yes,” Nathan echoes, “what is this about?”

  Ice runs down my spine and settles in my veins, my gaze finding Kayden’s. “It’s a message. He knows I’m here.”

  nine

  Kayden’s eyes hold mine, and everything we talked about on the porch tonight is in the air between us before his attention shifts back to the table. “Everyone,” he says, drawing their attention and placing his finger to his lips, silencing everyone before motioning for Carlo to take off the watch. “We need to know if it’s bugged and how much damage control we have to do,” he tells me softly.