* * *
Two days had passed without Monk speaking to her, and without word from or about Gunner. Every minute that went by, fueled her anger. Her new handler didn’t seem to give a shit about what she was doing, or even if she ate or not. He regularly made himself something to eat without bothering to ask if she wanted anything.
“Where is Gunner?” she’d asked again and again, with varying degrees of anger, but even when she railed at him, the man refused to answer.
With Gunner gone and Monk refusing to speak to her, she had a lot of time on her hands. Each day she looked for ways to get off the island, to no avail.
She hadn’t felt this powerless since she was eighteen years old, and the lack of control was feeding a rage like she’d never felt.
It wasn’t long before she shifted her goal from getting off the island, to killing her new handler.
—:—
“Where is that sonuvabitch?” Gunner murmured under his breath, not expecting Shiv to answer.
Petrov had ghosted, which wasn’t a surprise. Gunner didn’t care whether they found him or not, as long as he stayed deep enough to leave Raketa alone.
What worried him was that the woman Gunner believed was Raketa’s mother was gone too.
His plan had been to get in, get her, and get out. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it wouldn’t be that simple.
His guess was that Petrov made sure Raketa knew her mother was on the compound. It would be easy to get her to do whatever he wanted if he used the woman she’d believed died when she was a child as bait.
Not only was she gone, the compound was empty—seemingly deserted. There was no trace of the arms’ dealer ever having been here. It was as though the ancient structure had been abandoned centuries ago. The modern upgrades in the various apartments were the only proof they hadn’t been.
“Ready?” Shiv asked, motioning to the corridor that would lead them to the waiting SUV.
Gunner shook his head. There had to be some clue he was overlooking.
“Where did Alegria say the woman was being kept?”
Shiv pointed to the drawing. “Here.”
“I’m going to take another look.” Gunner didn’t wait for Shiv to argue. He’d take all damn day if he wanted to, and the rest of the team could leave. He’d have no trouble making his way back to the rendezvous point.
“I’ll recheck the apartment Raketa was being held in.”
Gunner nodded, appreciating that Shiv might also be thinking they’d missed something.
Like every other space, this one offered little to go on.
Shiv’s team had collected what could be used for DNA samples whenever they could find any. Gunner hoped they were able to prove one way or another whether the woman who had been held here was Raketa’s mother.
Gunner walked every inch of the room, uncertain what he was searching for, but unable to shake the feeling he’d missed something.
He ran his hands over the walls, from ceiling to floor and found nothing. He was moving into the kitchen area when Shiv walked in, carrying what looked like an ancient wooden box in his gloved hands.
“What’s that?”
“Haven’t looked yet.”
“Let’s take it back with us,” Gunner suggested.
Shiv nodded.
“Where’d you find it?”
“In here.”
Gunner followed Shiv down the corridor, past the apartment Raketa had been in, and into another room that looked as though it might have been used for storage.
“The stone shifted when I walked over it,” Shiv told him.
Gunner looked at the hole dug into the earth beneath the flooring and was reminded of another op where they’d found documents buried in the floor of a cabin.
“Not very original,” he muttered.
“Depending on how old what we find might be, it could be quite original.”
“We should do another sweep of all the rooms.”
“I agree. I’ll have the team move back in.”
Gunner followed Shiv out the same door he’d used to rescue Raketa, and into the SUV.
—:—
Raketa sat on the bed, cursing the tears that threatened. Gunner had expended a great deal of energy trying to convince her that he wouldn’t use intimacy to get her to talk, but that’s exactly what he had done. If he did anything to jeopardize her mother’s life, she would skin him alive.
What a fool she’d been, thinking he was different. None of them were different. They’d all been trained to get what they wanted by any means possible.
She caught a glimpse of Monk outside on his phone. There had been several ways she’d thought of to kill him. This would be the perfect opportunity to slit his throat, take his phone, and tell the man she was certain he was talking to, exactly what she thought of him.
As though he could feel her threat, Monk turned and made eye contact. Giving him the finger probably wouldn’t elicit much of a reaction from him. If only she had a gun. That would make him pay attention. She might even be able to get him to talk.
She saw him nod, disconnect the call, and walk toward the house. Within seconds, she heard his footfalls coming down the hallway, followed by a knock.
“I’ve been instructed to give you a briefing.”
A briefing? What the hell? She was tempted to tell him to fuck off, but information was her friend. The more she had, the more she could do with, including getting the hell off this island.
Monk stepped back when she opened the door and motioned for her to go to the main living area of the house. Once there, he motioned for her to sit. Was he planning to brief her using sign language or did the man ever intend to speak?
Raketa heard what sounded like a printer and then watched Monk leave the room. When he came back, he held several sheets of paper.
“This is for your eyes only,” he said, handing them to her.
She looked to her left and right. “Are you saying I shouldn’t share it with the animals inhabiting the island?”
“Habit,” Monk said, sitting in one of the kitchen chairs.
“Why are you sharing this with me?” she asked after skimming the first page.
“Orders.”
“From?”
Monk shook his head, stood, and walked out the front door.
It had been a stupid question. Of course the briefing was from Gunner. She stood and went into the bedroom.
A half hour later, Raketa set the papers on the bed next to her and wondered if he’d sent them somehow believing she wouldn’t hate him as much if he shared what he and Shiv’s team had discovered.
He was wrong. Very wrong. She hated him with every breath she took and every tear she cried over the lying bastard.
—:—
“You’ve copied all of it. I’m taking the originals back to Ivashov.”
Shiv shook his head. “We’ve been over this already. Taking the contents of this box anywhere is not an option.”
“You’ll have to kill me to stop me.”
The man shook his head a second time. “Don’t think I haven’t considered it. At least wait until the translation is complete.”
“There’s no need. She’ll be able to read what’s in it.”
With the wooden box under his arm, Gunner left the room. He could hear Shiv cursing him, but he didn’t care. He also didn’t take him seriously. If MI6 had wanted to stop him, they could’ve very easily.
He hoped by now that Raketa had digested the information he’d asked Monk to pass on to her. When he returned to the island, the two of them would have to craft their next plan of action together.
Mantis had the plane waiting on the private airfield near Heathrow. What he’d expected to be a quiet flight back to the States was going to be anything but, given his three original K19 partners were there, waiting for him.
“What the hell?” he said, unable to hide the smile that gave away how happy he was to see them.
“We figured you prob
ably had your head up your ass over Raketa about as much as we each did in the last year,” said Razor, hugging him and slapping him on the back.
“Quite a risk leaving Ava,” Gunner said, the smile leaving his face.
“If you think my wife doesn’t have the full protection of every governmental security agency and a handful of mercenaries, then you don’t know me at all.”
“Hey, Gunner,” said Kade, walking forward to hug him the way Razor had.
“You even got Eighty-eight away from your daughter. I’m stunned.”
Mercer walked forward as well, but waited for Gunner to hug him.
“Still scared of me, are ya?” Gunner said, elbowing him in the side.
Mercer laughed. “You think you intimidate me only because I tolerate your delusions.”
“I appreciate this,” Gunner said, acknowledging each of them.
“Been where you are,” said Kade, the man who had initially brought the team together, and who had served as mentor to the rest of them. “Tell us what you’ve got so far.”
Gunner reiterated what they already knew about Petrov’s relation to Raketa as well as his belief that the woman also being held was her mother.
“Pick up any trace of where he might’ve been headed?” Kade asked.
Gunner had a handful of theories, based mostly on where he knew Petrov wouldn’t be welcome. Mainly, anywhere with Russian or Armenian influence. Unfortunately, that still left a long list of possibilities.
“What’s in the box?” asked Razor. “This one of yours, Doc?”
Kade shook his head and so did Gunner. When they believed he’d been killed while deep undercover, they’d carefully executed the requests he’d made of them.
One request was to deliver a box to Kade’s youngest brother, tasking him with delivering it to the woman that brother was now married to. That hadn’t been the only box Kade had left behind. The rest had been up to Mercer to divvy up per his former boss’s instructions.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” he muttered, setting it down on one of the tables. He’d packed the wooden box inside a cardboard one after making sure it was wrapped in acid-free paper and bubble wrap. “I’m not opening it again until I get to the island.”
He looked toward the cockpit and saw Mantis in place. “What’s the hold-up?” he asked.
“Mercer and I are staying here for the time being,” Kade told him. “Razor will travel back with you.”
“I thought you were retiring.”
“That’s the plan. Once this op is complete.”
Gunner looked between the men he knew as Doc and Eighty-eight. “What op?”
Razor laughed and shook his head. “The one where we make sure you get to be the knight in shining armor who rescues the princess, asshole.”
Gunner laughed out loud. “There isn’t a man alive who is less of a knight than I am, nor a woman less of a princess than my Rocket Girl.”
“You have your work cut out for you,” said Kade, picking up his duffel and checking each of his guns before putting them in their various holsters.
“What’s that mean?” Gunner said when no one else reacted.
Razor grasped his shoulder. “It means that I’ve gotta school you in how to handle a woman between here and Chesapeake Bay.”
Gunner shrugged his hand off. “I’ve handled twice as many women as you have, ol’ boy, and did just fine.”
“Yeah, that may be true. What you haven’t done until now is had any reason to learn how to treat the one woman who will matter more than all the others combined. Notice I said ‘treat’ not ‘handle.’ That’s your first lesson.”
At any other time of his life, Gunner would’ve given his friend a ration of shit. However, Razor was right. Gunner had realized, before he left for Azerbaijan, that he’d do anything to keep Raketa by his side for the rest of his life.
“Your second lesson is going to be in groveling,” Razor said once Kade and Mercer had deplaned and were headed to meet up with Shiv.
He didn’t doubt it. Raketa was pissed, he knew that already. However, he’d had good reasons for leaving her behind—five million bucks and an asshole of a daddy. If she was going to be by his side for the rest of his life, he had to keep her alive. Her safety came before whether she was mad or not.
“Monk says she has smoke comin’ out of her ears.”
“Since when does Monk say anything?”
13
He was on the island. Raketa knew it without needing to see him or be told. She could feel Gunner Godet’s presence. She’d been able to since the very first time she saw him. Monk had disappeared a few minutes ago, although she’d stopped keeping track of him the first day he arrived. She’d never met anyone with a more appropriate code name.
She decided to meet the traitorous wretch head on, so she went outside and stood near the place where he’d built a fire the night before he left. From there she could see his approach from any direction.
“I brought you a present,” he whispered in her ear.
If she had a gun, he’d be dead. Or maybe she would be, considering he’d sneaked up on her without a sound.
Before she could take the swing at him that she intended, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her back to his front.
“You’re gonna like it,” he said into her ear before kissing the side of her neck.
As much as she tried to stay stiff as a board, continually reminding herself how much she hated him, she was powerless against the assault he was waging on her body with his tongue, lips, and hands.
“I hate you,” she said to him instead.
“I can tell,” he murmured as her body relaxed against him.
When she felt the dampness of tears on her cheeks, she pulled out of his grasp and spun around. “You told me you wouldn’t use sex against me. You lied to me. You betrayed me.”
“I kept you safe. There is no betrayal in wanting to protect someone.” When he advanced on her, she took a step backward. “Open your gift before you tell me you hate me again.”
Raketa studied the cardboard box in front of her. The only thing it could contain that would keep her from hating him was Petrov’s ashes. Even then, she’d have to know where her mother was and that she was alive before she could ever trust Gunner again.
“Let’s go inside,” he said, putting his arm around her shoulders.
She shrugged away from him and crossed her arms, wishing she wasn’t so curious about what was in the box.
“You’re gonna want to do this after you open it,” he said, grasping her neck and covering her mouth with his. He nipped at her lip, and she opened to him. She hated that she’d missed him as much as she told herself she despised him. Her arms wrapped around his neck of their own volition, and she pressed her body against his.
Gunner was the first to let go. “Open it,” he said, handing her his pocket knife.
“Where are you going?” she asked when she saw him walk away.
“I’m giving you some privacy.”
“Oh.” Disappointment was written all over her face; she knew it because of the look on Gunner’s as he walked back toward her.
“It’s okay, Rocket Girl. I promise this is something you want to do on your own. When you’re ready, call my name, and I’ll come back out.”
She nodded, trusting what she saw in his eyes, even through her trepidation.
Raketa sliced through the top of the box and saw what was inside was wrapped in what looked like several layers of packing material.
Something morbid occurred to her fleetingly. She might think she’d love it, however, she doubted very much that what was wrapped so carefully was Petrov’s severed head.
She shook the thought away as she carefully peeled away the layers of plastic and paper.
—:—
When Gunner heard Raketa gasp, he knew she’d opened the wooden box. He told her he was giving her privacy, but he stayed just on the other side of his bedroom door, not watching, but listen
ing. If he sensed this was too much for her, he’d go back out whether she called for him or not.
He could hear papers shuffling as he assumed she looked through the box’s contents. Shortly after, he heard the legs of the chair scrape on the kitchen floor and then scrape again when she’d taken a seat and moved it back to the table.
He let his body slide down the wall and sat with his back against the door. It might take her hours to get through all of it since she’d probably go back and look at its contents again and again. He could wait. He wanted to. Never before had he felt so strongly that what he had done by giving it to her was the right thing to do. And maybe, the only thing that would stop her from hating him for leaving her here when he knew damn well the mission he’d gone on was one she’d wanted to carry out herself.
—:—
Raketa hesitated before touching the photographs that sat on top of the box. What if they disappeared or crumbled in her hands? She’d be devastated. Her rational self pushed through; there was nothing about them that looked fragile. They had been very well preserved.
She’d never seen them before, or if she had, she didn’t remember. Without necessarily recognizing herself, she knew the baby, toddler, and little girl in the photos were her.
She did recognize her mother and even her father although he looked nothing like the man who had been holding her captive only a few days before.
The box held more than photos. There were official-looking documents, cards, and letters—all of which were written in Azeri.
She reached in and pulled out a pair of baby shoes. She guessed they were the same as any other of their kind, but to her, they were precious. Near the bottom of the box, she found a few clothing items and a blanket that felt so soft when she held it against her cheek.
One by one, she opened the cards first, and then the letters. Some had been written by someone Raketa didn’t recall ever having heard mentioned. She knew by the signature, though, that they were from her mother’s mother. The box also held letters her mother had written in response, all tied in bundles and kept in order by date.
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