by Elle Gray
As he paced, he felt the weight of his 9mm in the holster at the small of his back and the cold steel of the .25 in the palm of his hand. He was relatively certain he was faster than Potter and could get the drop on him if push came to shove. It was a worst-case scenario and one he hoped wouldn’t come to pass. If things with Potter went sideways, he would be spending the rest of his life—not that he expected there to be much of his life left—on the run, constantly looking over his shoulder.
His employers were not the forgiving sort, and if he failed them, they would come for him and they would come hard. If this meeting went to pot, he fully expected that he wouldn’t live to see the end of the week.
“Good evening, Mr. Bahn.”
A hot shot of adrenaline flooding through his veins, Mark spun around, his heart racing, ready to pull his hand from his pocket and fire. He relaxed when he saw Potter standing there, but silently chastised himself for not hearing him walk up. That was one of the things that unsettled him the most about Potter. The man seemed to float rather than walk. He always just turned up places. One minute you were alone and the next he was just there. As if he’d materialized out of thin air somehow.
Potter stood there looking at him, an amused smirk flickering across his thin lips. His hands were in the pockets of his dark blue overcoat, he had a red scarf around his neck, and a newsboy cap atop a head of hair that had gone mostly iron gray. Beneath the overcoat, Mark knew Potter would be wearing a natty three-piece suit, complete with a pocket square and a pocket chain attached to a gold pocket watch. The man was a walking anachronism, but even Mark had to admit he had a certain stylishness.
“Oh, I’m sorry. It’s Walton this time around, isn’t it? Dr. Mark Walton?” Potter said, his voice colored by a faint British accent. “Forgive me, Mr. Bahn. I have no wish to compromise your cover. It’s just so difficult to keep up sometimes.”
Mark knew Potter had no difficulty keeping up with anything. The use of his real name, as well as his cover name, was a subtle reminder of just who he worked for and what his job was. Mark was no fool and Potter was too smart to make a mistake like that accidentally. Potter knew full well, the value and power of words. Dr. Mark Walton was his cover identity. His real name was Levi Bahn—though he would not speak that name again until this op was completed. Potter knew this every bit as well as he did.
“What can I do for you, Potter?” Mark asked. “Why the meet?”
Potter let out a breath as though emotionally pained to even have to be there and began to pace. He stopped in front of the giant head sculpture, looking at it for a long minute. Then he turned and looked around at some of the other pieces that fill the sculpture park and frowned.
“You Americans have horrendous taste in art,” he said. “I don’t even understand what half of these things are supposed to be.”
Mark shrugged. He couldn’t argue that point. Most of what filled the sculpture park he found to be repulsive. But hey, he wasn’t an art critic or expert, so what did he know?
“It’s cold, Potter. Can we get to the point of this meet?”
The older man smiled softly at him. “That’s another thing about you Americans. You’re always in such a rush. As they say, stop and smell the roses now and then, lad.”
“My nose is so cold right now I couldn’t stop and smell anything even if I wanted to,” Mark snapped. “So please, tell me what this is about.”
“Our employers are… concerned.”
“Concerned?”
Potter nodded. “Very much so. They believe you’ve gotten too close to the girl. They fear your emotional connection to her is clouding your judgment,” he continued. “Further, they fear that if you are not in fact, able to control her as you were ordered to do, that you would hesitate to eliminate her. That your feelings are such that they fear you would not only not eliminate her, but that you would betray them as well.”
Mark shuddered as he thought about her war room. Thought about all the connections she was starting to make, and how close to the truth she was getting. It worried him like little else did right now. But Potter was right. He did care about her. And despite everything that happened between them, he still felt compelled to protect her.
“That’s crap,” Mark spat. “I have been loyal to them for more than a decade now.”
“This is true,” Potter said, his shoes making a hollow thump on the concrete as he paced. “But prior to now, you’ve never pleaded for the life of one of your marks. You’ve never intervened on their behalf. If your emotional state regarding this woman is clear, why intercede on her behalf when it became necessary to eliminate her?”
“Because it wasn’t necessary. I had the situation well in hand.”
“Our employers don’t agree. In fact, some believe the situation has passed the point of no return and that you’ve lost all operational control already,” Potter replied, his voice smooth.
“Think about it, Potter. If I eliminate a freaking FBI agent, one who is very well thought of and respected in her field, do you even understand what a can of worms it will open?” Mark almost shouted. “Do our employers know what an avalanche of crap that will unleash?”
A faint smile touched his lips. “I believe they might understand it a little better than you do, Mr. Walton. They have been at this grand game for a long, long time. I dare say your comprehension of the dynamics of this situation pales in comparison to theirs.”
“I have it under control and—”
“Do you?” Potter cut him off. “Have it under control?”
The question hung in the air between them, more a challenge than anything. Mark stared him down, his jaw clenched and the anger within him rising like a deep, dark tide.
“Yes. It’s under control. It’s fine,” he growled.
“Then why was she almost allowed to meet with Corden?”
“I took care of that, didn’t I?” Mark spat. “The meeting never went off, did it?”
“That was a rather messy affair. As you can imagine, our employers were not well pleased by it.”
“The bottom line is that it was handled.”
Potter cocked his head and look at him for a long moment. Mark shifted on his feet, feeling uncomfortable beneath the man’s gaze.
“If your feelings for her are not conflicted, why do you insist on keeping her alive?” he asked as if he genuinely didn’t understand.
“Because there’s no reason to kill her. She’s a good woman who does a lot of good in this world. To be honest, there are things about her I admire,” Mark said. “Killing her would be a waste. Not to mention the fact that, as I said before, the Bureau would bring everything crashing down on me. You. Even the Thirteen.”
Potter sighed. “You said you would dissuade her from looking into the murder of her parents. And yet, she continues doing so. Why have you not put a stop to this already? We understand she found Gina Aoki?”
“She’s… difficult. She’s determined,” he replied. “But I have it in hand. I handled Aoki and the crack in the dam has been plugged. Permanently. That is now a dead end for Blake. She’s got nothing and nowhere else to go.”
“I do seem to recall you saying that to me before and yet, here we are,” Potter pointed out.
“It’s handled.”
Potter stared into Mark’s eyes for a long moment, as if weighing and measuring him. Or perhaps he was just deciding whether to kill him on the spot or not. Mark wasn’t sure. He really thought it could really go either way at that moment. But then Potter spoke, breaking the silence.
“I like you, Mr. Bah—Mr. Walton. I believe you are a valuable asset to the group,” he said. “But don’t think for a moment that if you fail us, or if you betray us, I will put two bullets in you faster than you can blink.”
“Understood.”
“Make sure to keep her in line.”
“I will.”
Without another word, Potter turned and walked off. And as Mark watched him go, he thought about how complicated
this op had gotten. His job had been simple—watch the girl. Keep tabs on her. Make sure she wasn’t making connections regarding her parent’s death. And above all, derail her investigation. Keep her from learning the truth.
What had complicated everything was that he’d developed feelings for her. She’d started as a mark, but the more he got to know her, the more he found something different in her. Something special. Something that really clicked with him. It made him feel more than a little conflicted. Especially when it came to eliminating her if the need arose.
No. As he thought about it, Mark knew there was no conflict in his mind. He would not kill her. Period. If the order came down, he would disobey it. He would find some way to get her out from under the kill order. Out from under The Thirteen. Somehow. Someway. The simplest way to keep that order from coming down was to derail her investigation into her parents’ death—permanently. And that, he had no idea how to go about doing.
But he needed to figure it out. And fast. Otherwise, they both very well might end up dead.
THE END
Note From Elle Gray
I hope you enjoyed The Chosen Girls, book 4 in the Blake Wilder FBI Mystery Thriller series.
My intention is to give you a thrilling adventure and an entertaining escape with each and every book.
However, I need your help to continue writing and bring you more books!
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Being a new indie writer is tough.
I don’t have a large budget, huge following, or any of the cutting edge marketing techniques.
So, all I kindly ask is that if you enjoyed this book, please take a moment of your time and leave me a review and maybe recommend the book to a fellow book lover or two.
This way I can continue to write all day and night and bring you more books in the Blake Wilder series.
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By the way, if you find any typos or want to reach out to me, feel free to email me at [email protected]
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Your writer friend,
Elle Gray
Also by Elle Gray
Blake Wilder FBI Mystery Thrillers
Book One - The 7 She Saw
Book Two - A Perfect Wife
Book Three - Her Perfect Crime
Book Four - The Chosen Girls
Arrington Mysteries
Free Prequel - Deadly Pursuit
Book One - I See You
Book Two - Her Last Call
Book Three - Woman In The Water