SEAL for Hire

by Trish Loye

  Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth, but he held up his hand. “Enough, Sutton. I’ve made my decision.”

  He buckled on his holster and tried to ignore the icy glares shot his way.

  “I’ll call you when I have news.” He shut the door behind him, knowing he’d just shut the door on any chance the two of them had.

  Ryan walked into the penthouse of the apartment building with his weapon up. Dante walked just behind him and to the left. Ryan signaled the two FBI agents to go to the right while he and Dante went left. He left Phil, the DHS agent, to cover the door. They’d already cleared the floor of thugs and according to Lexi’s surveillance, there was no one else on this floor but Volkov.

  Ryan and Dante approached the bedroom suite after having cleared the other bedrooms. Mack and Lexi came up behind, signaling an all clear from the office and kitchen areas. Their target was inside.

  The door was ajar and loud heavy metal music thumped inside. He gave the three count and then burst through the door, shifting immediately to the right, looking for targets. Dante did the same with the left while the others covered the front and rear.

  Nothing. A rumpled king-sized bed with navy sheets and a white duvet. Decorative pillows littered the area around the bed. Bedside tables held navy and silver lamps. The wall to the left was pure windows, letting in the morning sunshine, and on the right was door to the bathroom. Music pumped out of it.

  He nodded at the door. Lexi held it open while he and Dante rushed into the overly large, extremely white, and totally glitzy bathroom, where Volkov splashed in a tub filled with bubbles.

  The dark-haired man froze when they came in, his eyes not showing any fear—just rage.

  “Cut the music,” Ryan said.

  The music shut off and Mack walked in with her weapon held at her side. Dante scowled, but she ignored Dante and looked at him. “I thought I might be able to help.”

  Her talents would definitely prove useful in questioning the man. Ryan had no idea how she did what she did but she was almost always right and he needed answers fast.

  The man in the tub moved, sloshing water under the bubbles. His upper chest and one arm were covered in tattoos.

  “I think he has a weapon close by.” Mack stepped back and raised her weapon.

  It was eerie the way she did that, but Ryan believed her.

  Ryan trained his gun on Volkov. “Raise your hands slowly.”

  The man shifted slightly but didn’t raise his hands. His eyes held a hard, cold glint. “You gonna kill me while I’m defenseless?”

  “It would serve you right,” Mack said.

  The assassin’s gaze flicked to her, and Dante shifted slightly to stand closer to her.

  “Stand up,” Ryan ordered. He waited, not letting his weapon drift from its spot dead center in the man’s chest.

  Volkov moved slowly, never taking his gaze from Ryan’s, and lifted his hand for the tub’s edge and pulled himself up. Bubbles and water sluiced down his body but Ryan only cared about the man’s other hand. The one he hadn’t revealed yet.

  Volkov moved. Metal glinted.

  “Gun!” Ryan shouted even as he shifted his aim. He fired.

  Volkov spun and toppled out of the tub. The gun that had been in the tub with him flew out of his grasp.

  The man landed hard on the ground, cursing harder. Blood poured from the bullet wound in his shoulder.

  Dante flipped the man onto his stomach and wrenched his arms behind him, ignoring the man’s scream of pain, and zip-tied his hands. He hauled the man upright and frog-marched him to sit on the bed.

  Mack followed behind and tossed a towel on the man’s lap. “That’s not for your modesty. It’s because I don’t want to be grossed out.”

  Ryan nodded at Dante, who leveled his weapon on the man while Ryan slid his away. “Why did you kill Mark Rollins?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His Russian accent gave the words a lilt. He smirked at them. “I’m just an innocent man who you’ve shot and tied up.”

  Ryan didn’t believe him, but Mack’s head cocked as she studied the man.

  “May I?” she asked.

  Ryan waved a hand. She was a top-level FBI interrogator.

  “Usually I like to play mind games with my subjects,” Mack said. “But we’re on a time crunch so I’ll get right to it.” She pulled the room’s desk chair over and sat in it. “It’s over, Pavel. We have evidence that will send you to a small room with no windows for the rest of your life.” She waved at the window. “Say good-bye to the sunshine and to us. You won’t be speaking to anyone, either.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You have nothing on me. I’m a visitor to your country. I have—”

  She laughed. “Please don’t tell me you think you have rights.” She leaned forward. “You have no rights. You’ve been caught murdering government and military personnel. You will be held accountable and will be locked away.” She smiled a beautiful smile. “And no one will ever know what happened to you.”

  “Fuck you.”

  Dante scowled but Mack just narrowed her eyes. “Did you kill Agent Rollins and Agent Costa?”

  Volkov rolled his eyes. “No, you stupid bitch. I’m an innocent man.”

  Dante made a sound and a slight movement toward the man, but Mack held up a hand. Dante stilled. “Something’s off,” she said. “He’s both lying and telling the truth.”

  Ryan started to wonder whether Mack truly had the skills that she and Lexi claimed she had.

  “Did you kill Agent Rollins?” she asked. “Yes or no?”

  “No, you whor—”

  She tsked. “No name-calling please. Did you kill Agent Costa?”

  “I’m fucking innocent, you cocksu—”

  Again she held up her hand. It wasn’t to stop the man but she’d seen Dante move when Ryan hadn’t. She looked at Dante. “It’s okay. Just give me space to work.”

  He nodded and stepped back. But his weapon never moved from Volkov.

  “You’re not innocent,” she said to Volkov. “But I don’t think you killed either agent.”

  “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you assholes.”

  She studied him. “Your eyes shift and your lips tighten... That’s only a partial truth.” She hummed. “You don’t expect to be believed. In fact, you want us to not believe you.”

  “No. You’re—”

  “Lie,” she said.

  “Why would I want you to believe I’m guilty, bitch?”

  “That’s what I’d like to know,” she replied. Then she straightened in her chair. “You don’t have a wolf tattoo.”

  He gave a slight frown. “No.”

  “You’re not Pavel Volkov.”

  His eyes widened. “Yes, I am.”

  “Lie.” She turned to Ryan. “This isn’t our man.”

  What the fuck? “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, but even if I wasn’t, he doesn’t have a wolf tattoo on his neck like we were told,” she said.

  And it was true. The man had plenty of tattoos on his body, but no wolf.

  “Where the fuck is Volkov?” he demanded.

  The man shrugged. “I have no fucking idea.”

  Mack sounded worried. “True.”

  Sutton stared at the closed door. That son-of-a-bitch! What the hell was he thinking, leaving her behind? She had more skill than any person on his team. The two of them could take out a larger force and get the answers they needed.

  But what Ryan had said made sense.

  She began pacing in the tight confines of the room. Part of her didn’t care whether his decision made sense. She wanted to get the bastard who’d killed her friend. So what if she was too close to this; she was a professional. And she was fucking deadly as hell. Anyone in their right mind would want her with them for a takedown. Who the hell was he to say she couldn’t come?

  She grabbed her pack. She wasn’t some dog that waited loyally for its master to come home.

&nb
sp; She blinked and stopped what she was doing.

  That thought had been pure rage, something out of character for her on a mission. Her anger drained away and she began to assess herself.

  Why was she so angry? That wasn’t like her. She usually used cold logic when it came to an op. She sank onto the bed. Yes, she was a valuable asset, but she wasn’t freaking Wonder Woman. Why had she been so angry that he’d go off without her? A spark of irritation lit inside her at the thought.

  Because he’d gone off without her.

  Her insides tightened with anxiety. She ran a hand through her hair. Damn. She was worried about him. She rolled her eyes at herself. She was worried and that’s why she’d overreacted.

  Well, that and he’d been acting like a domineering prick by ordering her around.

  But still, she usually didn’t get so emotional about things. She still thought that together they would have been able to capture Volkov, but could see why he’d want a team, him being such a team guy and all.

  She’d missed her chance to go as backup and now she just had to wait it out. The silence of the hotel room mocked her. She grabbed the TV remote and flicked it on. She hated waiting.

  She ended up watching a show about real housewives. In no way did those highly plastic and entirely narcissistic women resemble housewives. It was a car crash of a program but she couldn’t seem to stop watching.

  Her latest burner phone rang.

  Ryan!

  She answered. “How’d it go?”

  “Su-sutton?”

  Her heart stopped. It was her sister. With fear in her voice? She sat up straight. “Amelia? Are you okay?”

  “Sutton, I’m sorry. I was careless—”

  “Amelia?” No answer. “Amelia!”

  A male voice with a Russian accent came on the line. “You will come to your sister’s house, suka. Or your sister will die. You have fifteen minutes.”

  The line went dead.

  She jolted as though she’d been given an electric shock. Her heart tripped and then raced. Fuck. Fifteen minutes wasn’t a lot of time to get to her sister’s house from where she was. She grabbed her pack and ran out the door. She dialed Ryan as she sprinted to the street to hail a cab. She’d recognized the voice on the phone. It had been Volkov.

  So who the hell was Ryan taking down?

  Ryan didn’t answer. She cursed. Of course. He and his team were trying to capture Volkov, but they’d soon find out he wasn’t there. She left a message explaining everything. “Volkov is at my sister’s house and is holding her hostage. I need backup.”

  She ran into the middle of the street, blocking the next cab that drove down. It didn’t matter who Ryan was after. She had to get to her sister’s house ASAP.

  The cab stopped. The man leaned out the window. “I’m off duty, lady.”

  “I don’t care,” she said. “I’ll give you a hundred dollars to get me where I want to go in ten minutes.”

  He eyed her. “One fifty.”

  “Done.” She jumped in. “Drive like a life depends on it.”

  Sutton had the cabbie let her off a block from her sister’s house. She still had four minutes. She’d screeched at the cabbie every time he’d tried to slow down.

  She cut through the neighbor’s yard and hopped the back fence. The house was a small two story in a nice, safe neighborhood where nothing ever happened. Sutton didn’t bother with a recon; she had no time. Her sister rarely locked the back door when she was home and she prayed that she held true to form today. The doorknob twisted easily under her grip and she was in the kitchen.

  Her sister’s curses echoed from the front of the house. “My sister will kill you.”

  A smack of flesh on flesh. “Shut up, suka.”

  Her sister gasped and then cursed Volkov again, but she didn’t say anything more. They were in the front living room. She could enter through the hall or the dining room attached to the kitchen. She took the dining room, knowing the floor had less squeaks than the hall.

  “Where the fuck is your sister?” Volkov said.

  Sutton risked a peek around the archway between the living room and the dining room. Her sister was tied to a chair and Volkov stood looking out the picture window, a gun in his hand, and a large bandage on his cheek where Sutton had stabbed him with the pen.

  Sutton tensed, prepared herself and stepped out. “Drop your weapon or I’ll shoot.”

  Her sister gave a grim smile. Volkov swung around, gun up. Sutton pulled the trigger. She’d warned him and did not want to mess around with this asshole any longer.

  Her shot hit him in the chest. He fell back against the window and slid down to the floor. He blinked and then tried to raise his gun again. She shot the arm holding the weapon. He dropped it with a cry.

  She kicked his weapon away, slid her own into her holster, and did a quick search of his person.

  “You...won’t survive.” His words gurgled. She must have hit a lung.

  She didn’t bother to scoff at his words. He could barely move and his likelihood of survival was low.

  She turned and crouched by her sister. “Are you okay?” She pulled a small blade from her pocket and cut the zip ties holding Amelia’s wrists bound to the dining room chair.

  “Yes. I have to get Sophie,” she said.

  Sutton rocked back. Her niece was here? “Where?”

  “She ran outside when I told her to. She’s hiding somewhere.”

  “Good.” She freed the last restraint and her sister bolted out the back door.

  Movement out the window caught her eye. Edworthy and Tony rushed up the front walk. She stood in the window and waved. Edworthy frowned, though Tony waved back. Edworthy probably didn’t like the fact that she was an open target in the window. She stepped back and went to the front door to let them in.

  “Did Ryan send you?” she asked.

  Tony nodded. “He said you were here. He’s on his way.”

  Edworthy looked at the dying man under the window. “That’s Volkov? And he killed Rollins and Costa?”

  “Yes. And yes. But we still need to find his CIA contact.”

  “He hasn’t told you?” Tony asked.

  Volkov wheezed. “I...won’t...say anything.”

  Edworthy stepped closer to him. “What did you say?”

  Tony picked up the gun she’d kicked away and nodded at Volkov. “Is this his gun?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  Edworthy got closer to Volkov. “What are you trying to say, man? Speak up.”

  “He’s dying.” She pulled out her cell. “I’m calling an ambulance. We need him alive.”

  Tony sighed. It was a long, drawn-out, I’ve-had-enough-of-this-shit sigh. Enough of a sigh that it had Edworthy turning to face him.

  “No,” Tony said. “I don’t need either of them alive.” He lifted Volkov’s gun and shot Edworthy in the chest. Edworthy grunted and collapsed next to Volkov.

  Sutton’s eyes widened and her reaction time slowed as she tried to process what was happening. She reached for her weapon, but it was too late.

  Tony had Volkov’s gun aimed at her head. “Where’s your sister?”

  Thank God they weren’t in the house. “She ran out when I untied her. Her daughter was hiding somewhere outside.” Please don’t look for them.

  “Turn around,” he said quietly.

  Dread encased her and panic hovered. She did not want to turn around. “You’re going to shoot me?”

  “Just turn around.”

  She studied him. How had she so misjudged him? “Why, Tony? Why are you doing this? We’re friends. Was it for money?”

  He shrugged. “Yes, it was for money. And everything was going along so well too. No one suspected a thing, until...” His face twisted into a grimace, almost like regret.

  And some of the missing pieces fell into place. The secret leaked for the last mission hadn’t been a stolen secret. It had to have been Anna’s cover. It was why she’d been kidnapped right off the s
treet.

  “I never checked Anna’s data records,” she said.

  Tony glared. “Neither did she, until just before that last mission. She found out someone was using her code to transmit unauthorized information. She wanted to take it to Edworthy and start an investigation.”

  The blood drained from her face. “But you were dating her. How could you kill—”

  Rage contorted his face. He struck her with the butt of his gun, and she was falling.

  16

  Ryan cursed as he stared at the naked, tattooed Russian sitting on the bed. Where the fuck was Volkov? “How did we get this info?” he barked.

  “Tony found the lead,” Lexi said.

  “Where the hell is Tony?” He pulled out his phone.

  “He stayed behind with Edworthy. He said he was going to keep digging for information.”

  Something didn’t sit right. He turned his phone on to call HQ when he saw Sutton’s message.

  “Volkov is at my sister’s house and is holding her hostage. I need backup.”

  It had come in twenty minutes ago. He cursed and then called Edworthy. It went to voicemail. He called Tony. It also went to voicemail. His thoughts raced but he forced his breathing to slow and to look at the facts he had.

  “Dante, tie up this asshole. We’re leaving. Volkov is at Sutton’s sister’s house, and is holding her hostage. Sutton is on her way there. She needs backup.”

  Phil, who’d been on the door, blinked. “We’re backing up McRaven? I thought we were supposed to apprehend her.”

  “Plans change,” he said. “Lexi, get either Edworthy or Tony on the phone now. Dante, you’re driving. Mack, you’re navigating. Let’s move, people.”

  He called Sutton next. It also went to voicemail. He wanted to strike something in frustration. As he sat in the SUV while Dante sped through the city like an Indy 500 driver, he went over the facts he had while he kept trying Sutton’s number. It was as if his mind became hyper-focused with the thought that Sutton might be in danger. No emotion seemed to touch him. Just pure, cold logic and hard facts. He lasered in on them.