Johnny remained quiet for the rest of the trip.
*****
Beatrice entered the coffee shop in Georgetown and spotted Zach Jamison immediately. She hadn’t met him outside the senator’s office since she visited his hospital room after the junkyard ambush.
He stood when he saw her, his face looked grave, unhappy. He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His gaze drifted behind her. Seeing Ed, his mouth tightened.
Ed escorted her up to the table.
“Zach.” Beatrice held out her hand in greeting. Zach already knew Ed because he was the team lead on Senator Mendoza’s security detail. After the two men exchanged handshakes, Ed excused himself to scope out the area and vanished into the background.
“Everything all right, Beatrice? Where’s Sullivan?” Zach asked after a server came by and took her order.
“He had somewhere else he needed to be.”
“I hope I didn’t needlessly drag you out if you’re in danger,” Zach said anxiously. “What’s going on?”
“I’m fine. Just precautions. It happens sometimes with this job.”
“Is it because of our contract?’
“No.” Beatrice was uncomfortable with the questions. “Speaking of the contract, what happened between you and Nate?”
“He’s getting too intrusive to the point of offending some of our supporters,” Zach huffed indignantly.
“He’s been there a day,” Beatrice reminded him. Actually, less than a day.
“Well, he’s already gone and interrogated one of the senator’s visitors from the Colombian government who oversees exports.”
“Was the man on an advance dossier given to the security team?”
Zach pressed his lips together.
“Zach?”
“With the trip coming up, we’ve had an influx of dignitaries from South America. Our staff is overworked,” the Chief of Staff defended. “So no, he wasn’t. But Reece overreacted.” Zach’s eyes bore into hers. “Is there a threat you’re keeping from us, Beatrice? We’ve already beefed up security after the junkyard incident. Why was Reece suddenly inserted into the senator’s detail without an accompanying re-assessment? You even have Shephard guarding you. I understood when it was Sullivan, but now . . .”
He let his words trail off and flipped his right hand in an irritated gesture. She also could have imagined a slight sneer curving Zach’s lips.
She wished she was more prepared for this meeting and had formulated a standard answer. Good thing a server brought their coffee and pastry orders, which gave her a few seconds to compose her reply.
“No different threat than was assessed after the junkyard ambush,” Beatrice said. “It’s just that the Senator’s trip to South America is approaching; I did warn you that we would ramp up security leading up to the trip and the addition of personnel is fluid up to ten. Also, I’ve been hearing dissent with regards to the Immigration and Border Security bill, which goes to vote after the senator’s trip. That’s still two months out, but you can be sure those in opposition will take action before then. BSI can never be too careful.”
Beatrice didn’t like the way Zach’s eyes scrutinized her, as if stripping her defenses to get to the core of her lie. Her answer was weak at most, too generic, but was valid.
Zach’s phone buzzed. He checked it, his face tightening. When his eyes returned to hers, they were so chilly; she felt a shiver snake up her spine.
“Is everything all right?” Beatrice asked. “Was that the senator’s office? I know Travis went over there to talk to the senator.”
“I know he did,” Zach said. “I told Senator Mendoza we couldn’t have a man like Reece on our security team and we’d have to shop for a different company if BSI insists on including him. This is why I wanted to talk to you. I like you, Beatrice.” The way he said her name sparked a deadly sense of déjà vu.
. . . so you had no idea, poor Beatrice.
She ignored the ringing in her ears and took a sip of coffee, trying to concentrate on Zach’s words.
“You’re astute, smart, and capable,” he continued. “Surely you can recommend a different security firm.”
“You were the ones set on BSI. I was recommending a different company.”
“My point exactly,” Zach purred. “You knew our needs more than we did. We should have listened to you. Reece is too inexperienced to handle the complex day-to-day activities of our office.”
Beatrice bristled at the obvious dig at Nate. At that moment, she despised Zach Jamison. Nate may not have an impressive resume like Travis, but that was only because he had worked clandestine missions for the CIA, missions he couldn’t list as accomplishments. She valued her clients, but she loved her BSI boys more and would protect them like a lioness defending her cubs, even if she lost business.
“Nathan Reece is an invaluable member of BSI,” Beatrice said carefully. “From what you’ve told me of what had transpired, I can only conclude he was doing his job. Your assessment of Nate’s skills is different from mine. BSI’s track record speaks for itself. Foreign and local dignitaries all have glowing reviews of their services. If our basic beliefs about what is crucial security for the senator are different, I’m not your person. Trust goes both ways, Zach. If the security team can’t trust the person they’re protecting to do what they’re told, then a working relationship is not possible.”
The Chief of Staff’s expression turned more remote; gone was the charm that Beatrice was used to.
Her phone buzzed with a text message. It was from Gabe.
Her stomach bottomed out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Gabe perused the document in front of him while he waited for the artist to finish the facial composite of the man Johnny saw with Ventura. It was a long shot because the last time Johnny saw them was around a week after Ryker’s demise. Dr. Ryan stepped out of the room, her eyes zeroing in on Gabe. She was not pleased.
“I gave you my number just in case Beatrice had issues, not to call me for your own problems,” the doctor said sternly.
“This guy may lead us to who abducted Beatrice,” Gabe replied.
“That’s what you told me on the phone and the only reason I came. Don’t make it a habit, Mr. Sullivan.”
“Can’t promise that, Doc,” Gabe grinned.
“Save that charming smile for Ms. Porter. It’s not working on me,” the doctor said dryly, but amusement twinkled in her eyes. “Here’s a prescription for antibiotics and pain meds.”
Just then, Travis and Nate walked into the office.
“Doc? What are you doing here?” Travis asked.
“Sullivan here had someone for me to patch up,” Dr. Ryan replied. “I gotta go. See you around, Travis. Give my regards to Cat.”
After the doctor left, Travis turned to Gabe. “What’s going on?”
“Everything squared away with the senator?” Gabe asked.
“Yes,” Nate replied. He and Travis wore identical frowns as they regarded Johnny in the conference room.
“Are they keeping you on?”
“Nate’s out,” Travis said, “but I told the senator I’m a hundred percent behind what Nate did.” Travis paused. “Why am I telling you this? It’s none of your business.”
Gabe shrugged. “Beatrice is in a meeting with Zach Jamison right this moment. I was curious.”
“Are you telling us what’s going on?” Travis looked pointedly at Johnny. “Who the hell is that?”
“Sorry, I didn’t tell you Travis, Nate,” Em came up behind them. “Both of you were busy with Senator Mendoza, I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Juan Rodriguez, otherwise known as Johnny,” Gabe said. “I had some intel about Ryker’s hideout in the Cloverleaf District.” The other two men stilled. “I found where he did his executions, which were really medical tests.”
“Damn,” Travis muttered. “Let’s go to my office.”
“Can’t. Need to keep an eye on Johnny.”
Travis
looked at Em, who understood and returned to the reception area out of ear shot.
“Speak,” Travis prompted.
“These documents hold the technical information on the virus.” Gabe held up the stack of papers recovered from Ryker’s room.
“How is it different from what we already have? Porter said they’ve typed the genome.”
“Yes. But here”—Gabe held up the paper—“it states it’s inert when in powder form. It’s transformed into a liquid evaporate by a careful ratio of the indicated compounds. Ryker experimented on five test subjects. It’s all there.” Gabe handed the paper to Travis, with Nate looking grimly over his friend’s shoulder. “Everything from time of exposure to time of death.”
“Fuck me,” Nate whispered. “This is sounding too damn real.”
“Damn straight,” Gabe muttered. “I already left a message for Porter.”
Travis nodded. “Whatever covert group Porter is working with needs this data.” Though Gabe agreed, he wanted in on that mission, so he could personally gut whoever tortured Beatrice. His anger was under control, but it would spike to a killing degree whenever he let his thoughts drift to the cuts on Beatrice’s arms.
“I’m done,” the sketch artist said, walking up to them. “Johnny agrees it’s not an exact likeness, but it’s the best he could remember.”
Gabe looked at the sketch and balked. He could feel the blood leave his face as a fear like he’d never felt before ratcheted up inside him. Travis cursed while Nate said, “Fuck! Tell me that’s not Zach Jamison.”
*****
Zach Jamison is dirty. He was working with Ryker.
Beatrice read the message twice to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood.
“What’s wrong, Beatrice?” Zach whispered.
Her gaze lifted reluctantly to stare into dark soulless depths. The gears in her brain tried to make sense of who was clearly before her.
The person who tortured her.
The more you fight, the more it’s going to hurt.
“You,” Beatrice whispered.
Zach’s smile was nothing like his regular megawatt smile. This time, it was laced with malice. “So, the cat’s out of the bag. Pity.” His eyes shifted to a point over her shoulder. Ed Shephard had probably been alerted. Beatrice was frozen; she didn’t dare take her eyes off Zach.
A scuffle erupted behind her. There was screaming and seats scraping as the crowd panicked. She still didn’t dare look away.
“See, I’m not stupid to come here by myself.” Zach’s lips curved derisively.
“I’m not going anywhere with you.” Beatrice finally found her voice. Her phone kept buzzing. She couldn’t take her eyes off Zach. She just didn’t trust him. She couldn’t be taken again. It would destroy her. The thought of never feeling safe, not knowing who to trust, would destroy her.
“You won’t have to,” Zach sneered. “You’ll be dead.”
He lunged forward, a hand shooting out, but Beatrice, even in her terror, was ready for him. She shoved her chair backward and managed to block a knife swipe aimed for her neck. She stood up and saw Ed engaged in a hand-to-hand with Zach’s goon. She faced off with Zach, who had indecision written all over his face as he stared beyond her again.
“I’ll see you around, pretty girl.” He backed away from her and disappeared into the back exit. It would be foolish to follow him. Beatrice stood unmoving.
Ed suddenly appeared by her side. “Jesus, you’re bleeding.”
She was cut? Before she could reach up to touch the right side of her face, Ed had her chin tilted at an angle.
“It’s a shallow cut,” Ed observed. “But fuck me, Sullivan’s going to go ape-shit.”
She had no doubt. Remembering her phone, she saw additional text messages from Gabe.
Talk to me.
Damn it. Tell me you’re okay.
And then.
Babe, please be okay.
Beatrice called him.
“Beatrice? Christ, babe, are you okay?” Gabe growled into the phone.
“I’m fine. Oh, God. Oh, God, Gabe, I can’t believe it’s Zach.” She half-sobbed into the phone, collapsing into a chair as the adrenalin withdrew from her body. It was as if a ghost had walked over her grave, and she felt chilled all over. Her life had once again flashed in front of her. It was only through her endless sparring exercises and continued training that saved her from having her carotid artery slashed.
“Ed’s with you?” Ed was on the phone, probably with Travis or Nate. Zach’s goon also disappeared.
“Yes, he is,” Beatrice said. Protection of your principal was always a priority, not chasing after an assailant. It was a primary rule of executive protection.
“I’m on my way,” Gabe said, his voice now guttural. “God, Beatrice, I love you.”
“I love you, Gabe.” She felt cold, so cold. “I need you,” she added on a whisper.
“I’ll be there soon.”
*****
“Can’t you go any damn faster?”
“I’m going as fast as I can, man,” Travis muttered as he wove his Escalade around DC traffic. “It’s rush hour and they’re in Georgetown.”
A skin peel with muriatic acid was probably less torturous than what Gabe was experiencing right now. He had calmed down a bit after he’d talk to Beatrice, but the sucker punch of discovering that Zach Jamison had been deceiving them all this time caused him to almost lose his shit at BSI.
He was ready to charge out the door when Travis and Nate pounced on him to calm him down. He nearly punched Travis, but the other man assured him there was no one more capable than Ed Shephard and he’d been alerted. It did little to assuage Gabe’s panic, especially when Beatrice didn’t reply to his text message warning. But he agreed to let Travis drive while he’d been imagining several ways to deliver a slow painful death to Jamison. Finally, he had someone to direct his rage. A focus.
Parking in Georgetown was terrible. Gabe was doubly thankful now that Travis was driving. It wasn’t difficult to find the coffee shop; there was already a police cruiser double-parked in front of it.
“I’ll need to drop you off here and find parking,” Travis said as he approached the intersection a block before the establishment.
“Thanks, man.” Gabe exited the Escalade and broke into a sprint. There were some curious onlookers at the entrance. He shouldered past them and yanked the door open. He spotted Beatrice talking to a uniform.
Their eyes met across the room, her luminous green ones flooding with relief, probably mirroring his own. His relief quickly turned to outrage when he noticed the cut right under her right jaw.
Beatrice abandoned the police officer and walked briskly toward him. He opened his arms and quickly engulfed her in a crushing embrace. If given a choice, she would never leave his arms.
“Babe, you scared the shit out of me,” Gabe murmured into her hair.
“I’m sorry. You’re right again,” she mumbled, pulling away to look up at him. “I shouldn’t have left the office.”
Gabe exhaled deeply. “Yeah. But it’s done. Next time listen to your security, okay?”
“I know. I keep on preaching it, but I had Ed with me, so I felt safe enough.”
“You didn’t know Jamison was dirty.” He hugged her tightly to him again before he asked as calmly as he could muster, “What happened to your neck?”
Beatrice stiffened in his arms.
“Babe?”
“He tried to cut me.”
Gabe closed his eyes at the thought; the close call was killing him.
“Ouch, Gabe. Ease up. You’re squeezing the air out of me.”
“How . . . you blocked it?”
“Yes.”
“That’s my girl.”
“Um, excuse me, Ms. Porter, but I need more information from you.” A police officer was standing beside them, assessing Gabe warily.
Gabe forced himself to let Beatrice go. He kissed the crown of her head and nodded to the unifor
m to proceed. He hovered nearby though, spotting Travis talking to Ed. He wanted to join that huddle, but leaving Beatrice’s side was not an option right now. He didn’t know who to trust in this coffee shop and the crowd outside didn’t exactly give him the warm fuzzies as he scanned the spectators for suspicious elements.
His awareness was heightened; all his senses were engaged as he called upon all his training to protect the woman he loved. Right now, the only way someone was going to hurt a hair on her head was through his cold, lifeless body.
*****
Zach Jamison got into a white-colored van a few blocks away from the coffee shop. He needed to go to ground and fast. That had been too fucking close. He turned to the driver of the van, Domingo Ventura, the leader of the Fuego gang.
“How the fuck did Sullivan find out about Volkov?” Zach demanded.
Ventura had no idea the Russian they had been dealing with was actually former U.S. Special Forces Steve Ryker.
“I have no idea. But one of my hermanos saw him drag Johnny from the dry cleaners. We should have whacked that pendejo when we had the chance.”
Now that BSI had outed him, it would only be a matter of time before they establish his connection to Philip Crowe. Too bad he had not finished off Beatrice Porter. He relished wreaking psychological agony more than physical damage. Maybe he could still play with her. She was right when she called him a sadistic bastard.
Frank Wilkes would be one unhappy boss, but Zach still had information he needed. Unless someone figured out what information he’d been siphoning from their office, Zach was still indispensable.
It was Benjamin Porter he wanted dead. Zach had nothing against Sullivan. That had been all Ryker. However, Sullivan being in the way of his revenge against Porter made him Zach’s enemy as well.
So be it.
*****
It was obvious now that “safe house” was a misnomer, and the place was intended to be a command center for Porter’s agenda. Right now, the house was like a fucking party. Okay, maybe Gabe was exaggerating. With Caitlin around, food was a necessity, especially since she was almost four months pregnant. She had hacked into the Metropolitan Police Department database because they were officially the ones investigating the assault on Beatrice in Georgetown. They had lifted a partial fingerprint of Zach Jamison from the coffee cup.
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