Technical Risk (Aegis Group Task Force Book 3)

by Sidney Bristol

  The intern was gone in seconds. Word had gotten around about the joint operation and most were avoiding him given his current status.

  Miles carried the food to the desk adjacent to Diha’s. There he opened the bag and carefully removed the containers of curry and rice.

  “That’s a lot of food,” Diha said.

  He paused while letting the condensation drain back into the bag. He’d offered to get her food but hadn’t mentioned getting his own. Presumptuous. But he wasn’t going to back down.

  Instead, he turned and held out her curry. “I thought we could eat and talk things over. If you have any questions, maybe I can help?”

  Her brows were arched, eyes a little wide. She hadn’t been suspecting this.

  She took the curry from him. “Oh. Okay. Um, let me check my notes.”

  “Eat something first.” He couldn’t be certain, but he thought he’d heard her stomach growl.

  “I don’t want to waste your time.”

  “It’s my job to be a good host to your team.” He leveled a stare at her and knew in the pit of his stomach this was completely selfish. “I wouldn’t be a good host if I starved you.”

  A gentle smile curved her lips. “Okay.”

  They shared the container of rice between them and tucked into the food. Miles watched Diha out of the corner of his eye, curious what she would think of his favorite restaurant. She slid the first bite in her mouth. Her jaw worked and her eyes widened. She looked at him and covered her mouth.

  Shit.

  Was it too spicy?

  “Oh, my God. This tastes like my mother’s curry,” she said from behind her hand. She hurriedly chewed. “It’s a little different, but it’s so close.”

  He blew out a relieved breath and allowed himself to grin. “Nan said it was authentic.”

  “So, your Nan was from India?” She was looking at him now with those bright eyes of hers and all that curiosity bubbling behind them.

  “Yes. Can’t say she passed much down to me besides my love of spicy foods. My father was very British. Visiting Nan and Papa was always a treat, though.”

  Diha smiled at her food wistfully. “I always miss my mother’s cooking when we travel.”

  “You’re close then?” Was it obvious he was digging for information about her? He couldn’t help wanting to know more.

  “Very.”

  “Are they supportive of this?” He gestured at the laptop.

  “My work? Yes. My mother believes it will make me a very appealing wife someday.” She rolled her eyes and her smile widened. “They like to say they aren’t traditional and don’t believe in things like arranged marriages, but in some ways they are painfully old school.”

  Miles broke out in a little sweat. He told himself it was the curry. “They want to fix you up?”

  “No. They claim the only perfect match was used up when they were married and it wouldn’t be fair to me or my sisters to set us up. My older sister did us a favor by marrying the perfect man, so for now my parents are content to let us be.”

  Arranged marriages. The concept was old and foreign to him. “Nan talked about that, but I can’t wrap my head around it. Your parents, they were set up?”

  “Yes. They were both from America and visiting family in Delhi looking for a spouse when they were pointed out to each other. Mom talks about seeing this handsome man from across a courtyard and learning from her cousin that her uncle had just picked her husband for her. My mother didn’t find out until they’d left that the man she’d seen would be her husband. The stories about my Great Uncle are family legends. The man was crazy.”

  Miles could only wonder what that could have been like. Part of him wanted to belong to a big family like that. His own were very subdue and reserved, save for his Nan and Papa, who’d passed on years back. Even Miles’ brothers were stodgy.

  “Have you ever visited your family in India?” she asked.

  “No. I’m afraid they didn’t approve of my Nan’s marriage and cut her off. We’ve never spoken to them.”

  Diha’s eyes widened. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s fine. My grandparents loved each other very much and gave their kids a great life.” Which had led him here. To this moment in life. He couldn’t find anything wrong with the path he’d taken.

  Miles loved what he did. Being part of something bigger than himself got him out of bed every day with purpose. It was all he could ask for. But sometimes the job left him empty, and all he wanted was someone who understood him.

  Maybe that was what drew him to Diha. She was beautiful, intelligent and understood a warm, loving world he’d only glimpsed when he was with his Nan.

  Nan would have liked her.

  TUESDAY. BRIGHTON, United Kingdom.

  Aleksandr Lebedev peered through his scope. Not at the warehouse he’d begun his day watching, but a side street. He’d noticed the cluster of men during one of his routine visual sweeps. The three men he could see now through the open door of a van were clearly military. Like himself, they had a way of holding themselves and moving that spoke of lifelong relationship with death.

  “What are you up to?” he muttered into the early evening.

  This job had come to him weeks ago. He’d begun preparations, shadowing the man and woman as closely as he dared.

  Truth was, anyone could take a few bills to kill someone. It took a lot more skill to not only assassinate someone, but to erase them from the earth.

  That was Aleksandr’s specialty. He considered it professional courtesy for the hacker and his sister. They’d worked so hard to become ghosts, flitting about the world, doing the impossible. The least he could do for them was seal that legacy away.

  If these people moved in before he wrapped up the job, it would get messy. He didn’t think his employer would appreciate a mess.

  Aleksandr pulled out his phone and texted a code to his contact.

  That done, he set the phone aside and pressed the scope to his eye, then swung the gun to where the other two men were positioned on a building lower than the one he’d set up on. They were exposed. Two shots and he’d have them taken care of. But that wouldn’t help his job. It would be too many bodies to dispose of.

  No, it was better to wait for instructions. He’d bided his time. He knew how to play the long game.

  TUESDAY. CRASH PAD. Brighton, United Kingdom.

  Valentino paced the length of the main room of the condo. She’d liked the spacious windows and all the natural light when she’d been looking for a post-job crash pad. Now, they made her feel exposed, which was why she kept all the lights off as the sun faded and the sky turned dark.

  Skilton was trying to have her killed.

  No one had called her on that little hack. That more than the payments she’d found told her she was in trouble.

  Her gaze fell on the recycling bin full of magazines and newspapers.

  There was one problem she could handle.

  She opened the end drawer in the kitchen, pulled out some tape and hauled the recycling over to the first panel of windows. She yanked a magazine apart, held the centerfold page to the window and taped it in place.

  That one rectangle of darkness gave her , so she taped another and then another. Just like coding, she worked methodically, fitting the pages together. It wasn’t until the third pane that she bothered to look beyond her own four walls.

  The city was going on as normal, unaware of how her life was falling apart.

  Her gaze stopped on two men.

  One was looking up toward her building. Or was he?

  She slapped a sheet of newspaper on the glass, hiding herself. As she smoothed the tape into place, she peered out again.

  Both men were looking in her direction now.

  Was it too late already?

  She dropped the tape on the floor and rushed to her computer. One of the first thing she’d done upon setting up the crash pad was hack the local CCTV feeds, giving her access to all
the crooks and crannies around the building.

  There they were.

  She began recording the two cameras around the men, then tabbed to others.

  When she found the van, her blood went cold.

  Skilton hadn’t hired an assassin. He’d hired a team.

  Who were these people?

  If they thought they could take her down, they had another thing coming. She would destroy them.

  Valentino spent precious moments acquiring a picture of each man before using her backdoor access to a new kind of facial recognition software. While most countries could match a person to their criminal record, it was far less common to match a person with their social media profiles. She had no such qualms.

  “Gotcha,” she muttered as the names came rolling in.

  Jamie Silva.

  Harper Wright.

  Tucker Papadopoulos.

  Logan Muller.

  And Evan Ivanov.

  It didn’t take her long to connect the dots. While three of the men had bare bones social media presences, the other two were much more telling.

  Aegis Group.

  Now where had she heard that name before? Why did it ring bells?

  A quick internet search filled in the blanks.

  They’d taken down that hot hunk she’d met on that Mediterranean cruise. Of course he hadn’t known who she was, but that was how her life.

  Chatter was that Gazi had been captured by the Americans, though there wasn’t confirmation. At least not any she’d been told.

  So were these Aegis Group guys were in league with the American government? Was that who was knocking at her door?

  She returned to the window and peered out. It was too dark to see them now.

  The security system beeped and the front door swung open.

  “I’m home,” Viggo called out.

  “We have a problem,” she said and picked up the newspaper.

  “Oh, no. No,” Viggo groaned as he entered the living room.

  “It’s not what you think,” she snapped at him. “We’re being watched.”

  “Really?” His words dripped with disbelief.

  “I’m serious. Check the computer. I have names.” And more than names, she had a plan.

  With Skilton after her, she couldn’t sit around and wait to see what happened. It was bad enough she was on Skilton’s bad side. She couldn’t waste time with these people.

  It was time to go on the offensive.

  “Shit,” Viggo muttered.

  “Don’t worry.” She turned and went to her brother. “I have a plan.”

  “We should go. Now,” Viggo said.

  “And let them just follow us? No. I’m going to take care of this, and then we pick up and go. No running.” She turned him around and cupped his face. “Believe in me.”

  His grimace faded. “I do.”

  “Then you keep taking and let me get to work.” She held the newspaper out to him. “I have a very good plan. I think I’m actually going to enjoy this.”

  Viggo stood, and she plopped down. She grinned at the computer and cracked her knuckles.

  5.

  Wednesday. Thames House Security Service Headquarters. London, United Kingdom.

  Diha wanted to rub her bleary eyes so bad. Why had she let Cat talk her into wearing mascara and eyeliner? Diha’s make-up routine was subdued. A little eyeshadow, a brow pencil, bronzer and maybe powder. Most days she didn’t bother with more than the brow pencil and some lip gloss.

  What was the point?

  Deep down, she knew why she’d let Cat talk her into more make-up after the last two days.

  The reason had been poured into a well-tailored suit and had fed her a delicious meal. Technically, she’d fed herself, but she’d gotten the food because of him.

  Hopefully Miles stayed out of her lab today. After being up for almost two-and-a-half days, she’d slept the sleep of the dead last night. Waking up had been particularly hard. She was just glad that she’d been able to arrange a late start to her day. Still, she was left feeling wool-headed. When dealing with Miles she needed her wits about her, and today there would be no Cat to call in an emergency like yesterday.

  Zora had texted Diha an hour ago to say that Cat would be out of the office today working on something for her. Which meant Diha would be completely on her own, so there was no one to mind if she came in late. The team was in the field. They would contact her if they needed additional support, which they wouldn’t. Miles’ team was running that side of things, making her presence superfluous. Anything else she’d have done that morning would have been busy work. Being well-rested was far more valuable at this stage, because as she’d learned over the last few months, things were bound to fly out of control.

  She stopped at the doors leading to the suite in the basement of the Security Services building and stared at the sticky note.

  The handwriting was neat, swirling letters. She had to focus herself to make herself read it.

  Let me know when you are in.

  -M

  She swallowed and pulled the note off the door, then unlocked it.

  What did he want?

  She glanced over her shoulder, ensuring the hall was empty before ducking inside. Her heart beat faster as she shoved the door shut and clicked the lock.

  If he showed up she’d let him in, but this way she’d have a moment to compose herself.

  She’d wanted to be noticed, not the center of attention. Then again, she hadn’t really understood how much Zora would be leaving up to her. If Diha had, she’d never have willingly drawn more attention to herself. That wasn’t the role she was comfortable in, but Zora had a way of shoving her out of the nest.

  Diha took a step, only to be brought up short.

  She stared down at the hem of her kurta caught in the door and mumbled a curse. Her sister had bought her this one. It was white with yellow flowers on gray stems that had tiny little yellow buttons from her collarbone to her waist. There was a center split that exposed glimpses of her gray leggings. Diha had worn the garment today because it was warmer and she hadn’t expected to see many people. The split made her self-conscious of her legs, though she couldn’t bring herself to tell her sister that. Priya was beautiful and loved to take fashion risks. Diha was short and plump compared to her sister, a fact Priya never seemed to remember.

  Diha unlocked the door and opened it, pulling the fabric free.

  A large hand splayed against the metal door before she could shut it.

  She followed the arm to a shoulder, then a face, her stomach dropping lower and lower with each inch.

  Miles Green.

  Shoot.

  “Good morning,” he said, the words rolling off his tongue in such a way she almost wanted to ask him to say them again. What was it about that accent that got to her?

  “Hi.” She held up the sticky note. “I just saw this.”

  “I figured. Sleep well?”

  “Ah, yes. Thanks.” What was that smell? Was it a cologne? After shave? Deodorant? Laundry soap?

  She was staring at him.

  Had he said something and she missed it? Her mind was always wandering away.

  The longer they stood there, eyes locked, the smaller she felt and the less aware of her surroundings she became. His tawny brown and gold eyes were mesmerizing.

  “I’m sorry, did you need something?” she asked.

  “Zora said she would be in meetings all day and off-site. I thought I might have a better chance of staying up to date on the latest developments if I stuck close to you today.” He didn’t quite smile, but there was a pleasant way he spoke, how he looked at her. And yet he wasn’t here to pay her a compliment.

  The tiny flicker of hope sputtered and died.

  He wanted something.

  “You know I can’t tell you anything,” she said.

  He held up his hands. “And I’m not asking.”

  She narrowed her gaze. If he insisted on working near her today, she
would be constantly aware of him. Distracted. Could she deny him? Was that in her power?

  Miles’ face sobered. The hint of a smile dimmed and he looked at her with that same severe seriousness that seemed so very British.

  “I confess this role is difficult for me. I chafe at the confines of my position.” He glanced over his shoulder at two people passing out of sight at the end of the hall. “I don’t do well being relegated to behind the scenes. I need to know what’s going on. Please?”

  There was something so honest about the way he asked that she couldn’t find it in her to deny him. She stepped back and waved him into the suite, damning herself to constant distraction.

  He nodded and stepped inside. “Thank you.”

  Diha shut the door, but didn’t lock it.

  He was there. She couldn’t change that.

  She turned back toward him and froze, hyper aware of the way his gaze traveled up and down her body.

  Were her legs showing? Damn Priya. Diha should have found a nice pair of loose trousers instead of the clingy leggings.

  “You look nice today,” he said.

  She opened and closed her mouth while heat rose up her neck. With any luck, he wouldn’t notice. There were some benefits of having a darker complexion. At least she didn’t turn fire engine red like Cat could, though the woman hardly knew what embarrassment was. The only times Diha had seen her that shade was from laughing too hard.

  “Thank you,” she finally said.

  Get ahold of yourself.

  She’d gotten used to dealing with Harper. She could conduct herself just fine around Miles. Of course, Diha wasn’t attracted to Harper. Harper was like the brother she’d never wanted.

  She cleared her throat and walked past him and into the room she’d claimed as her lab.

  Miles followed her rather than remaining at the long table or taking up another office.

  He didn’t like what he was being made to do.

  His words penetrated the fog wrapped around her head at last.

  “Is it our fault you’re in this...position?” She sank down into her desk chair, thankful her legs were now hidden.

  Miles glanced up from setting his things on the empty desk closest to the door. “No, I’m afraid it’s my fault.”