by CW Browning
“I don’t know,” he said, “but I can tell you this much: I don’t think Alina will allow herself to think about anything remotely connected to love until this is all over. She’s got blinders on. It seems to me that, as far as her marriage goes, it’s just something in the background for now.”
Stephanie huffed and hobbled back over to the bar, reaching for her walking cane.
“Sometimes I just want to beat her with this,” she muttered, turning to make her way back to the door. “There’s got to be more to it than she’s telling us. No one just gets up one day and decides to get married. I don’t care how long they’ve known each other.”
Michael hesitated, considering whether or not to tell her what Alina had told him outside. After a second of thought, he turned his attention back to his laptop, remaining silent. It would only upset Stephanie to think that her best friend had no expectation of living to see the end of the week, let alone the rest of her marriage.
“If I were you, I’d leave it alone,” Blake said, not looking up from his laptop. “Let them work it out themselves. When she’s ready to talk about it, she will.”
Stephanie glanced at him.
“Easy for you to say,” she retorted. “How would you feel if Michael suddenly told you one day that he’d been married for a month?”
Blake looked up at that, his face breaking into a grin.
“I’d thank him for not making me wear a monkey suit in a church.”
Stephanie turned her attention back out the door, watching as Alina went down the steps of the deck.
“Men,” she muttered. “You don’t get it.”
“Oh, we get it,” Michael retorted. “We just don’t get involved.”
Viper watched a gleaming black Porsche 911 roll down the gravel drive and stop behind the Range Rover. She shook her head, her lips curving, and moved across the grass towards the sports car.
“That’s not conspicuous at all,” she said as the door opened and Damon climbed out.
“No one will be looking for a Porsche,” he replied with a grin, closing the door, “and it will outrun most things chasing us.”
“That’s true,” she admitted. “They are quick. I don’t want to hear what Stephanie and Angie have to say about it, though. They’re already convinced we have a stash of cars somewhere. Now what will they think?”
Damon grinned and bent to kiss her swiftly.
“I can guarantee it won’t be the truth.”
Alina chuckled.
“No, it won’t.” She put a hand on his arm when he would have turned toward the house. “I have to go get supplies. I’ll be gone most of the day.”
His blue eyes met hers. “Ok...”
She hesitated, then sighed softly. “If anything should happen, you need to get Stephanie somewhere safe.”
Hawk studied her for a long moment.
“I will,” he said softly. “Where are you going for these supplies?”
“There’s a storage unit in Baltimore where I keep some specialized things. The problem is that it’s near my old safe house.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“The safe house that was compromised last year when an assassin tried to kill Stephanie? That safe house?”
She nodded.
“I haven’t been to the unit since then, and it’s under a different name from the condo, but you know there’s always a risk.”
Hawk scowled. “I don’t like it. Let me come with you.”
She shook her head.
“I need you here to keep an eye on all of them,” she said, jerking her head toward the house. “I’ve been thinking about it all morning, and I’ve come up with a way to get in without being seen, in case someone’s watching. I just want you to be aware of what’s going on. If you don’t hear from me, get Stephanie somewhere safe.”
Damon was silent for a long moment, then he nodded slowly.
“Take the Porsche,” he said, handing her the keys. “It’s faster, and there’s no chance of it having been flagged yet. I’ll use the Range Rover if I need to move. Just make sure you get back here in one piece.”
Chapter Eighteen
Blake watched as the sliding door closed behind Michael and Angela.
“I wonder how long before Mike wants to strangle her,” he said, glancing at Stephanie.
She shook her head and pushed back on the recliner, elevating her legs. She sighed in relief as the pain eased a bit.
“Not long,” she predicted. “At least I talked her into staying here. That will help. Once she’s done at the gym, they’ll go get her stuff and then they’ll come back. Not as much time for her to drive him insane.”
“Long enough,” Damon said under his breath, turning to head down the hall towards Alina’s den at the front of the house. “I’ll be in the den if you need me.”
Stephanie waited until he’d disappeared then looked across the living room at Blake.
“I’ll tell you this much, I wouldn’t turn down a husband that came home and handed me the keys to a brand new Porsche,” she said. “Lina doesn’t know how she good she has it.”
“I’m more curious about where they get these cars from,” he said, stretching and getting up from his seat at the dining room table. “I mean, there’s a Range Rover sitting out there, Damon let Michael take his Audi, and in the garage is a Shelby GT500 and a Jeep Rubicon. These aren’t cheap cars.”
“Nope.” Stephanie watched as he went into the kitchen and opened the fridge, then leaned her head back and stared up at the ceiling. “I don’t think we really want to know, do you?”
Blake emerged from the kitchen a moment later with two sodas in his hand. He walked across the living room to hand one to her.
“Probably not. Where did Alina go?”
“Who knows!” She took the soda and popped it open. “She doesn’t tell me anything anymore, even when she’s getting married.”
“Steph, you gotta let that go,” he told her, amused.
“No I don’t.” She sipped her soda and looked up at him. “I’m still pissed off that she went anywhere. It’s just as dangerous out there for her as it is for me, but look where I am.”
“Don’t start that again.” Blake turned to go back to his laptop in the dining room. “We’ve been down that road and you lost by a huge margin. She’s a big girl. She’s proven she can take care of herself.”
Stephanie frowned as he went back to work and swiped her tablet, lowering her gaze to the screen. That was the problem. Alina was so used to taking care of herself that she’d forgotten that she was still human. Her fearlessness the other night in the parking garage was proof enough of that. She had walked right into the line of fire without flinching, almost as if she was daring Death to come for her.
Stephanie shivered, picturing the deadly stranger that she never wanted to see again. She knew what Viper did for a living, but seeing her in action was terrifying.
The first time she’d seen it was last summer in a clearing in Virginia, when Viper had coldly and methodically baited Regina Cunningham into thinking she had the upper hand. The transformation from the friend she’d known all her life into the government-trained assassin she had become was shocking, and Stephanie had never quite got over it.
Since then, Alina had been very careful to keep that side of herself away from Stephanie, sensing that it upset her. There were times when she glimpsed the deadly stranger, but Stephanie had been spared the full view of the killer until the other night. And it was even more horrifying the second time around, showing her clearly that what she had witnessed in Virginia last summer was nothing but a glimpse of the assassin called Viper.
Taking a deep breath, Stephanie raised her eyes and gazed absently across the room. Blake said that Viper did what she had to do to survive every day and that it wasn’t necessarily a reflection of herself. He said that when he was in war zones, he did it as well. It was the only way to stay sane and stay alive. Viper lived and breathed in a war zone every day. Even so
, after the other night, Stephanie wondered how much was coping mechanism and how much was actually what her friend had become.
Realizing that she wasn’t going to be able to focus on the book on her tablet, Stephanie set it down and sipped her soda. She glanced over at Blake again.
“How’s the case?” she asked. “Anything I can do to help?”
Blake glanced at her.
“Maybe,” he said slowly. “I got a message from the guys down in Miami. I’m just opening it now.”
Stephanie raised her eyebrow. “Those are the ones with connections inside the cartel, right?”
“Yes. If the Casa Reinos starts moving anything, they’ll find out about it.”
She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully and watched as he focused on the screen. Blake had been working a joint case with the DEA for over a year now, trying to bring down the notoriously vicious Mexican cartel in the states. He’d come close last fall, when the cartel’s second-in-command ended up in Jersey. He’d lost him, but had gone back to DC with the lieutenant's half-brother instead. Unfortunately, Blake hadn’t got anywhere with him and the man was currently rotting in a prison in Virginia.
“What the...” Blake muttered, scowling at the screen.
“What’s up?”
“I don’t know, but something is definitely wrong,” he said, looking at her. “The Sea Queen has left its port in Veracruz, Mexico.”
Stephanie frowned.
“Isn’t that Martese Salcedo’s yacht?” she asked, furrowing her brows. “The head of the cartel?”
“Yes. The strange part is that he’s not on it.”
“What do you mean? How do you know?”
“I got an update from our man in Mexico earlier. Salcedo is still at his compound outside Mexico City.” Blake sat back with a frown. “So where the hell is he sending his yacht? And why?”
Stephanie lowered her legs and reached for her cane. She got up and hobbled over to stand next to him, looking over his shoulder.
“Do we know which direction it’s heading?” she asked.
“It was going east and was spotted passing Cuba.”
“When was that?”
“Eight hours ago.” Blake reached for his can of soda. “Hell, they could be heading anywhere. That’s an ocean-going yacht. They could be crossing the Atlantic for all we know!”
Stephanie pulled out a chair and sank into it.
“I highly doubt that,” she said, casting him an amused glance. “Maybe they’re going to the Bahamas?”
Blake scoffed. “On vacation?”
She shrugged. “What else is there? Pull up a map. My geography is crap.”
Blake pulled up a map and turned the laptop so she could see.
“If they were going south to Columbia, they wouldn’t have passed north of Cuba,” he said, looking at the map.
“The Dominican Republic?” Stephanie suggested. “Don’t they have suppliers in both DR and Puerto Rico?”
“That could be it,” he said slowly, reaching for his phone. “I’ll call down to Paul in Miami and see what he can find out. Maybe it’s just a supply run.”
Stephanie studied the map while he dialed. A moment later, he was talking to another agent in Miami. She sat back and sipped her soda. The only direction that made any sense was south. The only thing west was the Bahamas and Nassau and, as Blake had pointed out, there was no reason for them to go there except on vacation. Somehow, she didn’t see Martese Salcedo loaning out his private yacht for someone else to take a vacation.
“What? Are you sure?”
The sharp question caught her attention and she looked at Blake in apprehension. He was scowling fiercely.
“Yeah, ok. Send it over to me. Thanks, Paul.” Blake hung up and looked at Stephanie. “So much for a supply run. The Sea Queen passed the Florida Keys. Paul said he just got confirmation from a satellite. He’s sending to me.”
Stephanie frowned and looked at the map again.
“Where the hell is it going?” she wondered. “And why now?”
Blake shook his head. “Maybe they really are crossing the Atlantic,” he muttered. “This makes no sense. Why would La Cabeza send his yacht east and stay behind? At least one of his Lieutenants must be on board. I can’t see him letting the Sea Queen go without one of his senior men on it, so why? Where’s it going?”
“And why now?” Stephanie wondered. “All our information indicates that they’re in the middle of re-building their empire after the upheaval last year. Not only that, but we know they’re in the middle of something big again. Why move men around now? You’d think he would want them with him.”
“Unless what he’s been working on has begun,” Blake said grimly.
“And we have no idea what that is.”
Alina pulled the overhead door down and turned around, drawing a Maglite from her duffel bag. She switched it on and shone it around the inside of the storage unit. Everything was just as she had left it last summer. Nothing had been touched.
She walked across the small, ten by ten area to a folding table opened along the back wall and dropped the empty duffel bag onto it. She turned to one of the four tall tool cabinets lined up along the other wall. Pulling out her keys, she unlocked it and opened the lid. Reaching inside, her fingers slid along under the rim until she felt a cold, round bump. Alina pressed it and heard a series of clicks as all the hidden locks on the drawers released.
Opening the top drawer, Alina surveyed her options. It was divided into several narrow compartments, each one containing bundles of wiring in various sizes. After a moment she reached for two different bundles before sliding the door closed. She moved on to the next drawer, opening it to reveal neatly folded tactical gear. She selected two leg holsters, two different pairs of gloves, and an arm sleeve with a magnetic brace inserted beneath the black fabric. Turning, she dropped the items into the duffel bag before returning to the cabinet.
Alina bent down and opened the bottom drawer. It was much deeper than the others and contained more tactical gear. She pulled out a black vest and set it on the floor beside her before reaching back in for a pair of tactical pants. Adding them to the vest, she carried them over to put them in the bag.
Long ago, on the advice of Hawk, Viper had begun to make use of storage units in strategically placed cities throughout the world. Usually close to one of her safe houses, the storage units housed emergency gear. Since implementing her the backup stashes, she had to admit that they had come in handy on more than one occasion. She never honestly thought she would have to use this one, though. This was a little too close to home.
Viper returned to the storage cabinet and closed all the doors locking them again. She moved to the next cabinet and, a moment later, was sorting through ammunition and weapons. While her armory beneath the kitchen of her house was well-stocked, there were a few things that she didn’t keep on hand. She pulled out a thin six-inch blade and looked at it thoughtfully for a moment. It was a blade that she’d received at the training facility. They were standard issue once they passed a certain point in their training. Thin and narrow, the deadly blade was easily concealed and even easier to wield. In fact, it was this very blade that had tipped her off to Harry.
Alina’s lips tightened as she kept the blade out and reached for another, smaller tactical knife. Earlier that week, when she and Hawk were on their way to Atlantic City, Michael called to fill her in on an autopsy report from Washington, DC. The terrorist that floated up in the Potomac had been stabbed in the neck with a blade matching these very dimensions. At the time, both she and Hawk realized the very distinct probability that the leak in Washington was a member of their own Organization. While they had suspected it for weeks, that one detail from Michael’s report was the thing that convinced them they were right.
The reason they were all issued this knife was because it was Harry’s knife of choice. He had carried it with him ever since his Army days, no matter the function.
Alina finished gat
hering what she needed from the drawers and returned to the table. It was while she was in the process of packing it that her cell phone rang.
“Yes?”
“How’s it going?” Damon asked. “Any trouble yet?”
“Not so far. I’m in the storage unit now and should be leaving shortly. What’s up?”
“Gunny junior found something you might be interested in.”
“Gunny junior?” Alina repeated, diverted. “You mean Hanover?”
“Yes. You know he’s still working on the cartel, right?”
“Yes.”
“He found out this morning that the yacht owned by Salcedo left Veracruz yesterday. It was spotted passing Cuba eight hours ago.”
Alina frowned. “Is it making a supply run?”
“That’s what he thought, but it doesn’t look like it. He spoke to one of his contacts in Florida and they have satellite footage of the yacht passing Miami.”
Alina’s brows snapped together and she was silent for a long moment.
“That’s very interesting,” she finally said. “Where the hell is he going?”
“That’s the other thing,” he said. “Salcedo’s not on the yacht. He’s still at his compound outside Mexico City.”
“And his lieutenant?” she asked sharply.
“No one knows. It’s unlikely he would send out his yacht without his own crew, though. My bet is that his second-in-command is on that yacht.”
“And I can guarantee La Cabeza’s not sending his lieutenant across the Atlantic,” Alina said grimly.
“Nope.”
They were both silent for a moment and Alina stared across the small space, deep in thought.
“Gunny junior seems to think the cartel is on the brink of something big,” Damon finally broke the silence. “If he’s right, this could be the start of it.”
Alina shook her head. “If it is, it’s not our problem,” she replied. “Not unless they get in our way.”
Despite himself, Damon chuckled.