“I don’t think so.”
She looked at the people watching her so intently. They checked their equipment, trying to get his location. And they needed to know if the hostages were with him or not. It was the only chance they’d get to rescue her loved ones. She wouldn’t fail.
“Five hundred million dollars, Mr. Lyon. If you want it, I need to hear Molly’s voice. I need to know she’s okay and that the children are okay.”
He let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine, if that’s what you wish.” She heard the echo of his feet along stone floors, and then he spoke to someone in Russian.
“Annabelle.” It was Molly’s voice. She sounded calm, but Annabelle knew she was probably terrified. She’d been warned not to let Molly know that rescue was imminent. It broke her heart, but she had to be strong if she wanted everything to work out.
“Molly, thank God! How are you? How are the girls? Are they with you?”
“Yes. We’re fine—”
“That’s enough.” It was Lyon’s voice again. Angry tears pricked Annabelle’s eyes. “You will come alone, in fifteen minutes, and you will bring the account numbers. Once the money transfers successfully, you will be free to go. You will be given the address where you can collect your child and friends. This is nonnegotiable.”
“Unacceptable. How do I know you won’t hurt them once you have what you want?”
“I will have no reason to hurt them then, will I? And I will let you speak to them before the transfer is made. Fourteen minutes, Mrs. Archer. See you there.”
Before she could say anything else, the call went dead.
“Got him,” Billy said. “He’s in the compound.”
Dex closed his eyes, stark emotion rolling over his features. Annabelle wrapped an arm around him, uncaring who saw them. She loved him in spite of herself, and he was dealing with his own chaotic emotions over the knowledge he had a daughter who was in danger.
“Then let’s go get that motherfucker,” Dex said, squeezing Annabelle tight before setting her away. He checked his pistol and reached for the rifle case. “We don’t have a lot of time to get into position.”
25
Molly hugged her arms around herself as Leo ended the call with Annabelle and gazed speculatively at her. The girls were still in the room next door. She could hear them crying for her, and it broke her heart.
“This is about money?” she spat. Maybe she shouldn’t say a thing, but he’d romanced her under false pretenses. A lawyer, her ass!
He backhanded her so casually that she didn’t see it coming. Her head snapped sideways. Shock scalded her as she clutched her cheek and turned back to him. He was tall and handsome and somewhat older than she’d first thought. He’d said he was thirty-five in his online dating profile, but he was probably ten to fifteen years older than that.
He had hard, cold eyes. How had she not realized it before?
“Everything is about money, darling,” he said. “It’s not personal.”
He spoke so indifferently, as if he hadn’t kidnapped her and the girls. As if he hadn’t killed the woman who’d been with them at the safe house. Guilt rolled through her at that thought. It was her fault they’d been found, her fault someone had died. Because she’d answered Leo’s calls. Because she’d flirted and made plans to see him once everything was normal again.
Because she’d thought he was normal.
God, would she never learn that men were pigs? Becca’s father was useless, having skipped out as soon as Molly told him she was pregnant. None of the men she’d tried dating in the years since had been any good.
And then she’d gone out with this psychopath. To think she’d let him kiss her—it curdled her stomach.
“How much money?” Because she wanted to understand.
Leo’s eyes glittered. “Eric Archer stole a fortune, Molly. Once I have it back, you and the girls can go home.”
She didn’t believe him for a second. Why bring them to Africa if that was his intent? He wasn’t planning to let them go. He was planning to kill them. Dispose of them.
A cold dread settled in Molly’s stomach. Eric had died on a safari. Torn apart by lions. Was that what Leo planned for them too?
He flicked imaginary dust from his dark polo shirt. “This will all be over soon,” he said coolly, as if he weren’t a cold-blooded killer.
*
Alpha Squad split into two teams. One team would head for the compound, and the other would go to the market where Leonov had told Annabelle to meet him. It was an outdoor market, but under roof. There was a coffee stand at one end with tables. That’s where Leonov wanted to meet Annabelle.
It was within walking distance of the compound, which meant Leonov would likely arrive on foot. They would watch for him and try to intercept him before he ever reached the coffee stand—but only if the hostages were safely extracted first.
Dex didn’t want Annabelle anywhere near the operation, but he’d been voted down. Even by Annabelle, who’d told him with flashing eyes that she was going and he could stick Jane up his ass if he didn’t like it.
Dex had to leave Jane behind, but he had his pistols and his knife. He sat with a thigh pressed against Annabelle’s leg as they rode through the streets of Cape Lucier in a taxi. Iceman was with them, which meant his thigh was pressed to Annabelle’s other leg. Dex didn’t like that at all.
But Iceman was happily married and totally in love with his wife. That helped, though not as much as it should.
Because Dex didn’t know what he felt—or should feel—for the woman sitting beside him. He’d loved her once, and then he thought he hated her. He had a child with her and he was still reeling from that fact. Truthfully, he didn’t know how he felt about anything right now except that he wanted this over with and he wanted his daughter and her mother safe.
He’d figure his feelings out later. Annabelle was back in his life for good, so it was important that he think about how he was going to see her on a regular basis and not feel chaotic inside every time he did.
“We’re in position.” Richie’s voice came through the in-ear device and Dex shot a glance at Ice. The other man nodded to indicate he’d heard too.
The teams needed to know what each was doing, so they were all linked up. Dex touched the microphone clipped inside his shirt. He spoke low enough to keep his words from reaching the driver. “Copy that, Richie. Team Bravo is almost to the market.”
Team Bravo was Dex, Iceman, Flash, and Fiddler. Flash and Fiddler were in a taxi behind them.
“Copy that.”
“Any sign of Leonov?”
“No— Shit. Yeah. He just walked outside. There’s a black SUV parked on the street. And he’s got Molly Carter with him.”
“Shit,” Dex said. Ice’s expression was hard, and he knew it was probably an echo of his own. Change of plans if Leonov was bringing a hostage to the meeting.
Annabelle whipped around to look at him. “What’s happening?”
He put a hand on her knee and lightly squeezed, warning her to be quiet. She bit her lip, but her eyes flashed furiously. He knew she didn’t like being told what to do when her child was in danger, but she also knew that the only way his team was getting everyone back alive was if she did what she was told and let them operate. They’d impressed that upon her very strongly at the beginning of this mission and again in the hotel before they’d split up.
Annabelle was smart enough to get it, thank God. He’d wanted to leave her behind, out of range of Leonov, but he’d been overruled. She had to be there for the hostages’ sake.
“They’re getting into the SUV,” Richie said.
“What the fuck is he up to then? Where are the girls?”
“No sign of them. Goddammit!” That was Big Mac’s voice.
“Team Alpha is a go,” Richie said. “We’re going in for the girls. Team Bravo, get Molly Carter. And Double Dee, Mendez wants Leonov alive. Don’t get an itchy trigger finger. Ice, see to it he doesn’t.”
/> “Copy,” Ice drawled as if he were strolling through a park somewhere instead of preparing to capture a Russian agent.
Dex wasn’t promising anything, so he didn’t say a word. He’d try to do what the colonel wanted, but if that son of a bitch tried to hurt Annabelle or Molly, all bets were off.
“I see the SUV moving toward me,” Victoria Brandon said. She was on overwatch duty outside the market, perched on the roof of a neighboring apartment building, her rifle trained on the road. “ETA in two minutes.”
“We’ve reached the market,” Dex said as the taxi halted. They got out and he took the briefcase that held Eric’s laptop from Annabelle. She was supposed to take it with her to the meeting place and sit with it. If Leonov got as far as the meeting, meaning they hadn’t grabbed him beforehand, she was supposed to use it to pull up the accounts. They were dummy accounts on a dummy page since the real accounts were now empty.
Billy had mocked it up as fast as he could—but if they got to a point where Leonov demanded she press the button to transfer the funds, they were in big trouble. Billy still didn’t have a ping back on the tracer he’d attached to the packets, so they had no idea where that money had gone.
Or who had taken it. Clearly not Leonov or he wouldn’t have called Annabelle after the money had disappeared. It could be Marshall Porter. It could also be Sam Spencer’s people interfering since the CIA had been following Eric when he’d met with Leonov. Richie had a call into Colonel Mendez on that score, but they had no answer yet.
Whoever had it, they’d certainly made the job a lot harder, if for no other reason than it was a blow to Annabelle’s confidence. She’d had something Leonov wanted, and now she had nothing.
“I’m going to need that,” she said.
Dex took her by the arm and started hustling her toward the meeting point. Ice melted into the crowd along with Flash and Fiddler.
“Plan’s changed,” Dex replied. He touched his mic. “I’m going with Annabelle. It’s too dangerous to let her go alone.”
“Negative, Double Dee.” It was Ice’s voice, hard and commanding. So much for strolling through the park. “That’s not how we planned this. You have to let her go alone.”
“We didn’t plan for him to split up the hostages either.”
Annabelle made a noise, but he propelled her forward.
“Stick with the plan, asshole, or you’re going to get yourself killed.”
“I don’t care.”
“Double Dee. Let her go in alone. That’s an order. Stand down.”
“Ice, I love you like a brother, but no. Would you stand down if it was Grace?”
Ice cussed a blue streak then. Annabelle was still hurrying across the market with him, but he could tell she was mad. He shouldn’t have said anything about the hostages being split up, but it was too late now.
“If you get out of this alive, I’m going to kick your ass,” Ice said. “Count on it.”
“Deal.”
“What do you mean the hostages are split up?” Annabelle demanded.
“He’s bringing Molly with him. Now focus.”
Her jaw hardened. He knew that wasn’t the end of it, but they had so little time. If they got out of here alive, he’d hear about it later. He’d gladly let her chew him out if that was the case.
It was dusk and the market was crowded with people who’d come out after their prayers to shop or eat. Dex escorted Annabelle over to the coffee stand. He seated her at a table in the middle, then he went and got her a coffee, setting it in front of her while he took a seat at a neighboring table. Leonov would make him, of course, but he thought he should at least pretend to observe Leonov’s order that she come alone.
She had the laptop on the table and she stared at the aisles of the market, probably wondering which way he would come.
“Coming in from the east,” Flash said. “He’s got Miss Carter with him. Looks like a gun in her back. We can’t grab him just yet. Too many people and too much chaos.”
Fuck.
Dex got Annabelle’s attention and pointed. She nodded. Then she took a sip of the coffee, gripping the small glass with both hands. It would be strong coffee, flavored with cardamom, ginger, and saffron. She didn’t react the way he thought she might. Instead, she took another sip.
Dex faced the east aisle and waited. He had a hand on the table and an arm draped on the back of his chair, his fingers within reach of his pistol. He wished he had Jane, but she was a little too obvious for something like this. Not to mention she’d blow Leonov’s head clean off his shoulders. That wouldn’t make the colonel happy apparently.
A white woman emerged from the corridor, a man walking directly behind her. Annabelle stiffened but, bless her, she didn’t move. Leonov and Molly walked over like they were on a Sunday stroll.
“Hello, Mrs. Archer,” Leonov said. “I brought you a surprise as a show of good faith.”
Molly kept her head turned as Annabelle reached for her hands.
“Are you okay, Mol?”
“Yes,” her friend said quietly, dropping her head as she did so. Dex frowned. Was that bruising on her cheek? No wonder she wouldn’t look directly at Annabelle.
“Yes, such a sweet reunion,” Leonov said. He scanned the tables, stopping when his gaze landed on Dex. “I see you didn’t obey my instructions, Mrs. Archer.”
He jerked Molly back, out of Annabelle’s grip, and Dex got to his feet.
“I don’t know my way around, Mr. Lyon,” Annabelle said. “My bodyguard does.”
“This man is military,” Leonov said, practically spitting the words. “Special operations, unless I’ve grown rusty.”
“Used to be,” Dex said. “Now I’m a soldier for hire—and Mrs. Archer hired me to protect her. That’s what I’m doing.”
“If you make a move,” Leonov said, “I will shoot Miss Carter.”
Fury rolled through Dex, but he managed a shrug. “I’m here to make sure you don’t shoot Mrs. Archer… or renege on the agreement.”
Leonov’s nostrils flared. “And yet if I shoot her, I think Mrs. Archer will be furious with you. Gun on the table where I can see it. Slowly.”
Dex eased his pistol from the holster and laid it on the table. He could still get to the one in the ankle holster if need be. People at nearby tables scattered at the sight of the gun.
“Step back,” Leonov said.
Dex obeyed. It was a gamble to do it this way, but in his gut he knew it was right. If Leonov was focused on him as the threat, he wouldn’t think there were others. Because he surely hadn’t expected Annabelle to come alone. If she’d been sitting here by herself, he’d be twitchier than he already was.
Leonov took a piece of paper from his pocket and thrust it at her. “The money, Mrs. Archer. You will send it. Now.”
Annabelle opened the laptop. “Give me a second. I have to power it up.”
“Don’t try to cheat me. When the money hits the account, I’ll get a text. If I don’t get that text within five minutes, my men have orders to kill your daughter and her friend.”
26
Annabelle knew she had to be cool. Inside, she was hyperventilating. Outside, she was the picture—she hoped—of cool restraint. The market was still noisy, but it was like they were in a bubble here. The tables were deserted, and the window had slammed shut on the coffee stand. She booted up the computer and waited. She considered stalling on the grounds her Wi-Fi wasn’t working right, but Lyon would see through that excuse. He already knew the signal in the market was good or he wouldn’t have set up the meeting here. He’d planned it carefully.
She didn’t anticipate him handing her a Wi-Fi device. “Plug this into your USB drive.”
She hesitated. Would he be able to tell that the bank page was a dummy with that thing? “Why?”
“Because it will provide a secure and fast connection. Trust me, you want fast right now.” He looked at his watch. “Only three minutes left, Mrs. Archer.”
She plugge
d the device in. She didn’t look at Dex, though she badly wanted to. But looking at him might give her fear away. She couldn’t do that. She hated that Lyon had Molly hostage. She hated that Molly was scared.
And the girls—oh God, the girls. She had to believe that Dex and his people were going to save the girls. If they didn’t—
No.
She couldn’t think that way. She couldn’t think about anything except the next few minutes. Dex was here. He’d put his gun on the table, but he had another one. His team was here too. Lyon didn’t have the advantage even if he thought he did.
“You might wish to hurry, Mrs. Archer.”
“I’m working on it! It’s not like this is the fastest connection speed, by the way.” She held up the paper he’d handed her and waved it. “I have to get the numbers right. Stop making me nervous.”
The market detonated before she could do a thing. A shock wave of sound exploded through the aisles and ripped into Annabelle’s ears. She was too stunned to scream. Her eyes shot to Dex—he was on his feet, shouting at her, his gun pointing toward where Lyon stood. Annabelle turned to see where Lyon and Molly were—and her head yanked backward as her hair was ripped out by the roots.
She was hauled out of her chair, slammed against a body. An arm wrapped around her throat and hot metal gouged into her cheek. She tried to drag air into her lungs, but she was being squeezed so hard her vision tunneled and blackness swam at the edges.
She tried to choke out Dex’s name, but she couldn’t get anything past the brick wall in her throat. The grip on her eased only enough to let air in, and she gulped it like she might not get another chance. She searched frantically for Dex—and found Molly, lying sprawled on the ground, her body strangely still. Annabelle’s gut twisted. Tears sprang to her eyes.
“Let her go, Leonov.”
Annabelle knew that voice. Relief overrode fear as her gaze slammed into his. Dex stood there like an avenging angel, gun pointed, face hard, eyes promising retribution. Red blossomed through his shirt sleeve. Rivulets trickled down his arm. Her belly dropped.
Dex was hit. Molly was so still she might be dead. Fury clawed like flaming dragon talons through Annabelle’s insides. She would tear this man apart with her bare hands if she got a chance.
HOT Addiction: A Hostile Operations Team Novel - Book 10 Page 17