by Avery Flynn
Those were his orders, the ones he wanted to forget he’d ever accepted. He’d ignored them once already when he didn’t have a choice. But Jasper was right, with Rolf out of the picture, the other man could keep Ruby safe, for now. She wouldn’t be totally safe until Henriksen was out of the picture. For Elskov and for Ruby, he’d track the traitorous asshole down and sink him for good.
Your orders are simple.
Track down Henriksen’s yacht.
Seize it.
Save Elskov.
Spend the rest of your life with Ruby.
Be the hero. Get the girl. Isn’t that how it worked for the good guys Ruby swore he was one of?
He pulled Ruby close, memorizing every little detail about her in that single heartbeat, and brushed his lips across hers. “I’m coming back for you.”
“You have to go first,” she murmured, tears glistening in her eyes.
He took her mouth in a kiss meant to say everything he couldn’t and promise everything he’d deliver in the future, and there would be one. He’d do whatever it took to make sure of that. Hating that he had to do so, he broke the kiss and pocketed an extra magazine for the Uzi.
“This isn’t over,” Lucas said, then ran out the door, guns ready.
…
It took everything Ruby had not to follow Lucas out the door. Watching him leave wrecked her, but she didn’t have a choice, not if the plan she’d concocted with Jasper was going to work. She watched from the window as the ATVs’ dust trails disappeared, praying she’d made the right decision not just for him, but for her, too.
“Are you sure about this?” Jasper asked, taking a handgun from the rack before handing her a bulletproof vest.
She took the vest, which was much heavier than it appeared, and slipped it on. “Are you?”
“I made my choice when I agreed to work with the Americans.” He fastened the Velcro on the vest and handed her a sweatshirt he’d brought with him from the Sparrow’s room. “You’ve never had a choice. You were too busy watching out for everyone else to watch out for yourself. That shit better end now.”
Damn, he was going to make her cry. “You’re not as dumb as you look, little brother.”
“I had a really great older sister who taught me some things.”
She watched him as he crossed to the kitchen, more than a little bit awed at the brain and guile he’d been hiding all these years. With his chin-length blond hair, olive complexion, and relaxed, come-what-may vibe, he’d always seemed more American surfer than Nordic. He’d used his looks for a cover so well, and for so long, that he’d even fooled her into believing he was just a pretty face, but not anymore. From now on things were going to be different between them.
While he filled a plastic baggie with a mix of ketchup and water, she tugged the sweatshirt on over her head. He disappeared from view when she tugged the sweatshirt on over her head and his voice was muffled. “Are you sure you want to do this? Is he worth it?”
She pulled the sweatshirt into place and Jasper’s face came back into view. “Starting over without any of Rolf’s bullshit tied around my neck, that’s all for me, but if it wasn’t?” An image of Lucas last night popped into her head. “Yeah, he’d be worth it. I have to do this for him. It’s for his own good. You’ll make him understand.”
The sound of shouting outside filtered in.
“For you? Anything.” He tossed her the baggie, strode to the window, and peeked out front. “I can see the tops of their heads over the gate.”
“So let’s do this.” She slipped the baggie under her sweatshirt and secured it to the bulletproof vest.
The pop, pop, pop of gunfire could be heard just outside the door.
Jasper lifted the gun, his mouth set in a grim line. “This is going to hurt like hell.”
Oh goodie. Exactly what every girl wanted to hear. She took a deep breath. “Do it.”
He pulled the trigger. A freight train slammed into her chest. Warm liquid seeped out over her shirt. She went down. Her head bounced against the floor hard enough to rattle her teeth. Thirty seconds later, the door crashed open and the floor vibrated from the thunder of Macintosh guards running to Jasper.
“He shot her and ran out the back!” Jasper shouted. “Go get the bastard.”
“Is she okay?” one of the men asked.
“Does she look okay?” The question came out as a viscous snarl. “The motherfucker just killed my sister. Bring him back alive. I’m going to fillet the bastard. Go!”
Footsteps pounded. The backdoor slammed shut. Then there was silence.
“They’re gone.”
She opened her eyes and raised her arm so he could help her up, wincing in pain. “Laying it on a little thick weren’t you?”
“I’ve been doing this double-agent thing quite a bit longer than you. I know what it takes.” He scooped her up in his arms as if he did that type of thing all the time and headed toward the front door. “Time to play dead again. We gotta make sure as many people as possible see me run to the main house with dead you in my arms so when you start over in Montana or Maine no one has any idea. It has to look real. With any luck, the bad-guy grapevine will have your obit posted before the day’s out.”
“Are you going to cry?”
Jasper grinned down at her. “I’m going to fucking weep, gnash my teeth, and promise to burn the whole world down to avenge you. They thought Rolf was bad. Just wait until they get a load of me.”
The poor fools had no idea.
…
Thirty-thousand feet above the North Atlantic Ocean on the Silver Knights mobile command jet, Lucas noted, but didn’t give a shit, that everyone had breathed a sigh of relief when he’d locked himself into his small office in the back of the plane. Tension had chewed a hole in his gut and worry was chipping away at what was left.
He hated not being in the group of agents boarding Henriksen’s ship right now. He loathed being in any plane he wasn’t piloting. He despised that all he could do was pace and watch the clock until word came in that the operation had been a success. More than all of that though, he couldn’t stand being away from Ruby.
He didn’t give a shit what anyone said, as soon as this mission wrapped up, he was going to find her. If that meant the end of his term as head of the Silver Knights, so be it. He may owe his life to Elskov, but his heart belonged to Ruby.
Three quick raps sounded on his office door.
“Enter.”
Clausen walked in, armed with a clipboard and a grim expression.
“We have him, sir,” Clausen said. “The Elskov Royal Navy picked him up. His boat may have been loaded down with guns and ammunition, but it was no match for a battleship.”
Good news, which didn’t explain the way she couldn’t meet his gaze. He grasped for possibilities. Could Rolf have double-crossed Henriksen? Were the guns in the wind? That was the last thing they needed.
He grabbed the bottle of antacids on his desk and shook out a few tablets into his hand. “And the weapons?”
She consulted the clipboard as if she didn’t know the answer already. “Confiscated and on their way to a secure location.”
“So what’s wrong?” He popped the tablets into his mouth, knowing even as he did so that they weren’t going to alleviate the worry churning in his stomach. “Don’t tell me the Americans are elbowing in this operation any more than they already have.”
“No.” She shook her head. “There’s been a fire at the main house on Fare Island.”
His lungs twisted into a tight knot and he lost the ability to take a breath. “Was anyone hurt?”
“Our reports are that everyone made it out.”
Only years of training kept him from collapsing into his chair with relief. “Thank God.”
Finally, Clausen made eye contact, and he suddenly wished like hell that she’d kept her attention on that damn clipboard. She had the same look in her eyes he’d seen as a kid when the upstairs neighbor had meet him outside his
apartment to let him know his mother had overdosed.
“One of the low-level thugs in the Macintosh organization told one of our informants that Ruby Macintosh had been shot and killed prior to the fire. Her body was in the house at the time of the blaze. They weren’t able to retrieve her remains before the house became fully engulfed.”
There may have been more words. He didn’t hear them. He just stood there, frozen as his world fell apart. Gone. He should have stayed. He should have protected her. He should have listened to his heart. Now it was too late.
Clausen cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, sir.”
Fuck. How long had she been standing there? A minute? Ten? Longer? He had no clue. “Thank you for letting me know.”
“Of course, sir.” She nodded and left.
He crossed to the built-in filing cabinet and yanked open the top drawer. Inside was a bottle of akvavit and a set of small glasses. It was for special celebrations at the end of a successful mission. He’d done his duty. Put Elskov first.
Today was a success.
Henriksen was out of the picture.
He took out the bottle and a single glass. The arms deal had been thwarted. He poured a double shot, not bothering with ice.
The guns were confiscated.
He picked up the glass and held it to his lips, unable to take a single sip.
Ruby was dead because of him, because he’d blackmailed her to save Elskov and it had worked. Beautifully.
All the color faded from his surroundings. The last to go was the gray of Ruby’s eyes, leaving only pristine and orderly lines of black and white that never crossed and never mixed and never made him whole.
Today was a success.
He flung the glass across the room. It shattered against the wall, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. Lifting the bottle to his lips, he took a swig and relished the burn as he watched the splattered liquid drip down the wall as useless for getting drunk as he was for keeping Ruby safe.
Chapter Fifteen
Three days later, Lucas poured himself a glass of akvavit and waited for the Elskov State Seal on the video screen in his office to fade away and reveal the queen. It was his last official duty as head of the Silver Knights. After she accepted his resignation, he’d be free to pass the security codes on to Clausen and walk away from Moad Manor, from the Silver Knights, from Elskov.
The screen went black for half a second before the king appeared with the queen by his side.
“Your Majesties,” Lucas said, bowing his head in deference for the absolute minimum amount of time before looking up and taking another drink.
The alcohol’s burn did nothing to minimize the pain of seeing them together—the queen with her pregnancy glow and the king standing beside her, always at her side and so obviously in love that Lucas barely recognized the hard, uncompromising Dominick Rasmussen he’d worked with for eight years. He’d never resented their happiness before, but now it was gravel in an open wound.
“Your resignation is not accepted,” the queen said, annoyance and worry evident in her tone.
As if anything could stop him. “I’m going anyway.”
“Is it because of the asset?” the king asked, ignoring th shocked gasp of his queen. “What was her name? Renee? Rosie? Rita?”
“You know damn well it’s Ruby Macintosh.” It was the first time since Fare Island that he’d said her name out loud and it cost him, chipping away at the akvavit ice he’d encased himself in.
“That’s the one,” the king said, continuing despite the wide-eyed, shut-up-you-idiot look from the queen. “Nasty business her ending up dead. Casualties can happen in any operation, that’s not a reason to quit. She was, after all, just an asset.”
Because he’d drunk enough to be flammable, the explosion shouldn’t have shocked Lucas, but it did. The heat seared him from the inside out. The anger sent his heart rate into overdrive. The self-hatred and blame battered against his bones.
“She was not just an asset!” The words tore from him half howl, half roar.
“Exactly, and it’s about time you admitted it,” the king replied, his blasé attitude replaced with genuine sympathy, no doubt he thought jabbing a finger into Lucas’s open wound was necessary to prove a point. “And that’s why you submitted your resignation. It has nothing to do with how you did your job and everything to do with the loss you suffered for us.”
“My reasons for resigning are clearly stated in my letter.” With more care than he’d used to protect the woman he’d loved, Lucas set his tumbler of akvavit down on the desk that wouldn’t be his for much longer. “I disregarded my orders. I chose Ruby over Elskov, Henriksen nearly got away with the guns.”
The empathy in the queen’s eyes nearly undid him. “But he didn’t.”
No he hadn’t. Something just as bad had happened.
“After that, I followed my orders and left her behind so she could be killed.” He hadn’t pulled the trigger, but he may as well have. He didn’t know where he was going. He didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t know how he’d ever be able to go on without her. But he knew one thing as sure as he knew he’d fucked up beyond redemption. “I can’t blindly follow orders anymore.”
“Whoever said we wanted you to?” the king asked, frustration booming in each word.
Lucas snapped to attention. “It’s the soldier’s way.”
“You’re not a soldier anymore. Elskov can’t afford to see things in terms of black and white anymore if it’s going to succeed,” the queen said. “And if the Silver Knights aren’t just a fancy version of gray in a black and white world, then I don’t know who would be.”
The words sounded so much like something Ruby would have said, he reached for the glass to numb himself. “She’s gone.”
“She is and I am so sorry for that, but do you really think she’d want you to give up your family and lose yourself in a bottle?” The queen pointed at the half-empty decanter on the desk.
“My family?” Lucas didn’t have any family. Really, he never had.
“Us. Elskov,” she said. “You can’t just walk away when we need you.”
He sat the glass back on his desk untouched. “I’ll think about it.”
The queen nodded. “I know you’ll make the right choice. You always do.”
“And Bendtsen,” the king said. “We really are sorry about Ruby. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through, but we’re here for you, even when it may not seem like it.”
In that heartbeat he knew he couldn’t leave. He was as much a part of Elskov as it was a part of him. This is what Ruby had meant that night at dinner when he’d asked her why she hadn’t just walked away from her family and started fresh. He finally understood—you couldn’t leave family behind, not even if you physically walked away.
“Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“It’s Dom, Lucas.” He gave him a gruff smile. “And there’s no need for thanks. That’s what family does.”
…
Later that evening, Lucas sat in the sitting room in Moad Manor and poured another glass of akvavit and another and another. He should be drunk by now. That’s what he wanted, to finally fall into oblivion so that he couldn’t even remember Ruby’s name or hear the soft moan she made or smell the exotic scent of her perfume. But it didn’t work. He was stone sober staring out at the garden and the chairs sitting out in the field of lavender barely visible because of the clouds blocking most of the light from the new moon.
Staring out, his eyes tired and unfocused, he nearly missed it but years of training worked when the rest of him didn’t. The glint of moonlight off something metallic. The sudden silence. The extrasensory awareness creeping up the back of his neck.
A holdout from Hendriksen’s camp?
A rogue Macintosh operator?
He was a man with enemies. It didn’t matter who had finally tracked him down because without Ruby he had nothing to lose and he was itching for a fight, for someone to bear the b
runt of the fury burning a hole in his gut. There was nothing more dangerous.
Keeping his movements controlled but natural, he crossed to the open French doors and strolled out into the garden, keeping his face tilted up toward the night sky even as he scoped out the area with his peripheral vision.
His gut tightened a half a second before the snap of a twig off to his left.
He pivoted and launched himself at the intruder. His shoulder connected with something hard. They went down in a tangle of limbs, but he managed to land on top of his opponent, whose face was hidden by the night’s shadows. It didn’t matter. He pulled back his arm, ready to deliver a knockout blow.
“Lucas, it’s me.”
And just like that, Ruby KO’d him without lifting a finger.
…
Ruby cringed as Lucas scrambled up off her as if she was radioactive and she couldn’t blame him. She was as bad for him as anything that set off a Geiger counter. Giving in to the urge to see Lucas one last time had been a mistake. If she’d just disappeared into an American big city, Ruby could have saved him this, but she’d been weak. She’d thought sneaking a peek of him one last time would ease the marrow-deep misery of leaving him forever. He wasn’t supposed to see her. She should have left the garden half an hour ago, but as soon as she’d spotted him pouring himself a drink alone she hadn’t been able to take even a single step away.
“I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.” She got up and shoved her hands in the pockets of her black jeans to keep from reaching out for him. “I should have left before now.”
Walk away, Ruby. Leave. Get out of here before you can’t.
He didn’t make a move toward her. Was that the best thing to have happened or the worst? No fucking clue. Everything hurt too much to know. They just stared at each other. She took in all the details. The dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. His unshaven jaw. The overall haggard weariness in his stance. Whatever revenge the queen had inflicted for Lucas disobeying her orders, it obviously had affected him deeply.
“You’re alive,” he said, taking half a step closer before stopping himself. “It doesn’t make sense. I heard the report from Clausen. I saw the satellite imagery showing the fire and the burning husk of the house after it was over.”