Harlan’s gaze followed something or someone in the room. Then those same legs from the video of Josiah’s uncle came into focus. Benton, but not showing his face. Standing right there in the middle of everything.
“Can we get a reading on a location? Shadows, directions of the sun, type of building—anything to go on?” Tasha asked.
Ellery opened a second computer and started typing. “No. This still could be the airport. A hangar, maybe over where the private planes leave.”
“Airport?” Josiah didn’t expect that answer.
“That’s where she traced the car that took Harlan away. His implant tracker had blinked in and out, likely due to a jammer,” Tasha said.
Mike slid into the seat next to her. “Benton knocked out our equipment but he underestimated Tasha’s ability to call in favors and get air support as backup.”
“This is Harlan Ross, real name Daniel Buckingham. Formerly of the British Army and, to be specific, the Special Reconnaissance Regiment.” Benton’s scratchy voice boomed through the speaker. “He carried out operations in Northern Ireland, Somalia, Iraq. And the list goes on.”
Mike wiped a hand over his face. “Jesus, he just blew Harlan’s cover.”
“Why is Benton still hiding from the camera and saying stuff we know?” Sutton asked.
Josiah hated the answer but he said it anyway. “Because we’re the only ones who know what he looks like but we’re not the only ones watching this. This isn’t even meant for us, except as an emotional torture device.”
“He is a member of a group called the Alliance, with its roots in the CIA and MI6.” Benton’s voice droned on while the camera focused on Harlan, showing only Benton’s legs. “The winner of this auction will receive the prototype for this very special bomb as well as the identities and operational information for the Alliance.”
Mike shot out of his seat and stood up again. Started pacing the space behind the table.
“How does he have all of that?” Sutton asked.
“Jake Pearce.” The guy who screwed up everything. Joshua never hated anyone as much as he hated that traitor. “Every time I think about that guy I want to kill him again.”
“Let the bidding begin.” Benton opened the auction, then left the screen.
Code names and numbers started running along the right-hand side of the site. Josiah didn’t recognize any of them, but that was the point. Evil preferred to stay anonymous.
The bids ran up. The price ticked past three million dollars in less than ten seconds. Josiah should have been surprised but he wasn’t. “Good to know our lives are worth a few dollars.”
But he picked up on something else. Despite the injuries and what had to be a bone-chilling sense that his life was almost over, Harlan kept moving. Not obvious. Just a small tap of his fingers.
Josiah moved in closer and pointed at the screen. “What is he doing?”
“I don’t . . . The code.” Tasha turned around and stared at Mike. “What is he saying?”
“I’m on it.” Mike brought the laptop closer to his face. He watched and every few seconds wrote down a letter.
Sutton shook her head. “I don’t get it. What’s happening?”
“We have a modified version of Morse code. Something Mike developed for this type of situation when we had to get the information out any way we could.” Josiah had never been so happy about this group’s rampant paranoia and driving need to be ready for anything. “Well?”
Mike put the laptop back on the table and smiled. “Airport.”
“Okay, we’re going to assume the same airport where Ellery tracked him.” Tasha stood up. “We’ve got four hours to launch an operation to save Harlan and stop this auction.”
Mike kept watching then started shaking his head. “Ellery was right. Harlan’s not at the private airport right here. He’s at Charles de Gaulle, one of the busiest airports in the world.”
Some of the wind rushed out of Josiah. “We’re talking a quarter of a million people a day passing through.” He thought about the crowds and the potential for damage. “That’s a lot of opportunities for Benton to show off his new toy.”
“Which is why we need to assume he has something bigger planned.” Mike tucked the pen behind his ear. “This auction is about getting attention as much as it’s about killing Harlan.”
“Either way, Harlan dies.” Josiah didn’t mean to say it out loud but when everyone looked at him, he knew he had.
Tasha glanced at the auction bid. Up to fourteen million and climbing each second. “Make sure that doesn’t happen.”
A half hour later Sutton found Josiah just standing in the middle of their bedroom. Theirs, not hers since he’d joined her beneath those covers every night. The first time together had turned into others in an unspoken agreement that they not sleep alone. She had no idea what it meant long term or how to even separate out the man she found so compelling from the one who walked into such unrelenting agony every day.
She couldn’t speak to his feelings. They had to be jumbled from all the death unfolding around him and rage simmering within. But she knew what she felt. How her heart raced when he walked into a room. How his smile opened something inside her.
Some people would tell her she’d been on an adrenaline high since they met. Maybe. She probably needed distance but right now she didn’t want it because she was too busy falling for him. And too busy worrying that this might be the only time she’d ever get. She’d come to Paris seeking revenge. She’d found love and now all she could do was ride it out.
Debating whether to give him space, she decided against it. She needed to touch him. Making sure she stepped loud enough to announce her presence so he didn’t reach for a weapon, she walked into the room and slipped her arms around his waist.
His hands covered hers and he pulled her in tighter. “What’s this for?”
“I got the impression you didn’t get hugged very often.” She kissed the back of his neck then rested her cheek against his broad back. “You missed out.”
“Mike won’t hug me no matter how much I ask.”
She heard the smile in his voice. She loved that he still could. Over the last few days she’d lost the ability to separate out the terror from the calm. Even as they planned or conducted research her mind wandered all over, from the death and threats to the utter pleasure of what he did for her in bed.
That mouth. The gentle scratch of that scruff around his chin as it rubbed against her inner thighs. He’d let his fingers linger and made her beg for release. She found everything about him so damn hot.
But they had to survive, and not just them. She couldn’t stand to lose any members of the team, even those she knew only by name and had never met. “Tell me we’re going to save him.”
Josiah didn’t ask any questions. He just lifted her hand and kissed it. “I don’t know.”
Figured he’d pick this one time to feed her the unvarnished truth. “That’s not really what I was hoping for. I kind of depend on your confidence.”
“Me too.”
She loosened her hold and walked around, skimming her hand around his torso, until she faced him. “Promise me something.”
“What?” He put his hands on her hips and closed the gap between them.
She knew he’d hate the rest but she had to say it. “Tell me you won’t trade places or put your life at risk.”
He closed one eye and frowned at her. “That’s basically what I do.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.” The simple sentence didn’t come close to summing up her feelings. The words hung there when she wanted to say so much more. “When this is over . . .”
He stopped her words with a kiss. A quick one that continued on. When he finally lifted his head his frown remained. “I can’t make any promises.”
“When you bring Harlan back I’m going to give you a hero’s reward.” She would say anything, do anything, to keep Josiah safe. It sounded ridiculous with his skills and his size,
but she would fight to the death for him. “But you have to come back in one piece to get it.”
“I’ll try.” His lips danced over hers. “For you.”
She put her hand on the back of his neck and treated him to a kiss filled with promise. One that let him know she would wait. When her breath grew heavy, she lifted her head and stared into those dark eyes. “Just come back.”
22
JOSIAH HATED everything about this plan. The auction ticked on with less than a half hour left. At last check Harlan’s life and the team’s private information carried an eighty-million-dollar price tag. That was a hell of a lot of incentive. Benton couldn’t back away now. He needed to preview the bomb and hand over the intel. Make an example of Harlan.
That meant he needed to die, and soon.
They’d skipped the main terminals and main body of the airport and headed for a series of garages at the outskirts of the property. A supply and maintenance area used mostly by commercial flights carrying cargo and mail. Harlan had tapped out “garage” and this area fit. So did the amount of power being used here¸ or so Ellery said.
Josiah hoped like hell they were right. It wasn’t as if he could dump Sutton in a hotel and retrieve her later. Dividing the group meant giving Benton a chance to swoop in. This entire auction, though Ellery insisted it was real, could be another way to grab them. One by one. To be safe, the rest of the team had scattered all over the world, ready to take on new identities if needed.
Ellery and Tasha waited in the van parked nearby. Ellery tried to work her tech magic, searching frequencies and video and figuring out a way to defuse that bomb. Tasha ran point. She’d balked at being out of the main action when Harlan’s life was on the line, but she was the only one who could run this operation. The best Josiah could manage for Sutton was to leave her with Tasha.
Mike and Josiah headed in. They had one shot at this. The bomb tied to Harlan’s heart rate but it had a kill switch. Benton could set it off at any time, and seeing the rest of the team would likely cause that to happen.
They headed for the garage Ellery had pinpointed, guided in without any sound of help from Tasha. She’d break radio silence, if needed. Otherwise, she listened and moved pieces around and called in resources where possible and tried to cut off Benton’s access to the outside world. It was the role Harlan generally played while Tasha sat at her administrative desk in her nice office in the big building.
Josiah signaled for Mike to move forward. They took turns with the lead, one rushing the building and stopping to hide behind natural landmarks and anything else that might block gunfire while the other kept watch.
When Mike waited fifty feet out, Josiah used the binoculars. Scanned the rooftops for snipers. Checked the open field and every hiding area for shooters. He didn’t see anything. Benton’s men could be sophisticated and committed. Snipers could sit for hours, days even, in the same position and hold. Josiah didn’t see any sign that Benton could buy that kind of loyalty but it had been that kind of operation. Every expected zig turned out to be a zag.
After what felt like hours of keeping watch but really only amounted to minutes, he dropped the glasses and shook his head at Mike. Josiah tried to justify Benton’s decision to go without cover. The lack of movement made Josiah edgy. Still, they needed to move if Harlan had any shot at surviving this.
Going in cold carried risks. Benton had picked up a love for blowing up things. He’d gone over the edge on this revenge. Ellery had even started picking up Internet chatter about Benton’s unhappy customers.
Time to go.
Josiah gave Mike the signal and they went in. They met up at the wall close to the building’s side door. They both stood with their backs pressed against the cool siding.
Mike never took his eyes off the horizon. “No shooters?”
Tension bounced between them. They’d done enough of these to know when an assignment was about to go sideways. In this case, Josiah suspected it was about to be flipped upside-down. “A bad sign.”
“Very.”
He thought about Sutton and that smile. Called up the vision of Harlan tied to that bomb. So much to lose and it could all go in the next few minutes. “Time check.”
“Twenty-two minutes until someone wins this auction.”
That’s all the information Josiah needed. “Let’s get this done in ten. I like having time to spare.”
Mike nodded. “Agreed.”
They slid along the wall to the door. No need to worry about cameras or lock picking or any of those cool tech devices Ellery handed them to beat a password-protected system. The door was open. Not much, but enough for them to see light streaming from inside and to hear the steady hum of a machine of some sort.
Josiah slipped inside first and stopped. He wasn’t sure what he was seeing. The back of a computer operation of some sort. Banks of equipment set up on tables and thick cables lining the floor. Ellery specifically told him not to shoot the computers or he would have. Seemed like the logical way to stop the auction but she claimed it would make tracking impossible.
With that avenue closed, Josiah went with the next obvious plan. They stalked around the setup. A sheet blocked their path and view of the rest of the room, so Josiah ripped it down.
There was the fake studio. Harlan in the chair. Benton standing right behind with a gun to Harlan’s head. Frederick aiming at Mike.
Fucking perfect.
Since Josiah had no intention of surrendering, he went for the big play. Adjusted his aim and shot Frederick’s hand. When the man yelled with rage, Josiah hit him in the side and dropped him to the ground.
Mike took a turn and shot out the camera. Not both, because Tasha was tuned in and watching. Harlan could send another message. They weren’t closing any avenue here.
Benton looked at his man thrashing around on the floor as he made a sound half like a cough and half choking. Then his gaze went to the shattered twist of plastic and metal.
“Well.” He made a humming sound. “Neither of those actions seemed necessary.”
But it felt pretty great. So would the next round Josiah planned to put in Benton’s forehead. “Your turn.”
He made an annoying tsk-tsking sound. “Careful, gentlemen.”
The guy acted as if he made the rules. He was outnumbered. There could be shooters lingering out there. Josiah suspected that was the case. But he had Tasha and her perfect shot and pissed-off attitude to hold them off for a while.
“Put the trigger down.” Josiah started a countdown in his head. If he got to five without this bomb being defused he was shooting Benton’s kneecap.
“That won’t help you.” Benton reached over and removed the binding covering Harlan’s mouth. “Do you want to tell them?”
“This isn’t the only bomb,” Harlan said in a rough voice between hard swallows.
Josiah couldn’t remember ever hearing the man sound defeated. Angry and disappointed, yes. He liked to lecture and gave a knife-training session that taught them all a few things, but the man in the chair acted as if he was going to die today.
“I don’t believe it.” But he did. One look at Harlan’s eyes and Josiah knew the truth.
“The one you really need to worry about is in Terminal 1, along with thousands and thousands of passengers and airport workers. Those people working the coffee shops and restaurants. All that fuel nearby.” Benton actually smiled as he laid that all out. “Think of the damage.”
He’d planned this down to the second. Took them to a place where he could escape easily and have plenty of decoys to cover his tracks. Josiah couldn’t exactly play games with that many lives with something like fifteen minutes left to maneuver, which gave Benton the upper hand.
He touched Harlan’s shoulder. “If his bomb vest doesn’t explode, the much larger terminal bomb will.”
Mike didn’t ease his shooting stance. “Bullshit.”
“Ever the farm boy.” Benton shook his head. “Swearing or not, you’d be wise
to listen to me. This vest will take care of Harlan and most of you two. The terminal bomb will knock buildings to the ground. There will be nothing left. I’m not sure even dental records will help you identify all the bodies.”
“We shoot you and defuse the bomb.” Seemed simple enough to Josiah, which was why it likely wouldn’t work. But that wasn’t the point. He was stalling, trying to give Tasha time to get word to someone. Bring in the bomb squad, or whatever the French equivalent of that was.
“Not possible.” Benton moved until all but his upper body and head hid behind Harlan’s slumping form. “You touch his vest, it explodes and the one in the terminal explodes. Death all around. If I trigger the explosives in the vest, I can still determine if I should also set off the one in the terminal, which I would. And, of course, if his heart rate accelerates, the vest goes off.”
So many ways to die. Josiah glanced at Harlan then. Looked for signs of panic. Didn’t detect any sweat or fidgeting. Even his breathing stayed steady.
As if he heard the thought, Benton commented. “I do have to commend him for staying calm in the face of certain death. That was training money well spent by the British government.”
Enough talking and showing off, or whatever the hell Benton was doing. Josiah couldn’t stand the sound of his voice and the brief hesitation between each word. “What do you want?”
“Revenge.”
What Josiah had come to see as the most useless of motivations.
“And money,” Mike added.
Benton shrugged. “I should get paid.”
Josiah’s gaze traveled around the room. The auction continued to play out and the video ran. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Frederick moving, trying to crawl along the floor, and Josiah raised his gun.
“Stop,” Benton said, cutting him off. “Don’t shoot him again.”
“You’re telling me you care about someone other than yourself?” Josiah didn’t see it. That sort of emotion didn’t fit the profile.
Facing Fire Page 22