by Gennita Low
“Good points, Lieutenant,” she said, giving a shrug. “Call it healthy male competitiveness.”
“In other words, you aren’t going to tell.”
Why was Jazz deliberately baiting her? She wondered at this prickly side of him. She canted a brow and shrugged again. When cornered, use NOPAIN. “It won’t happen again. As for needing your services, I’ve been told that SEALs are the best at extraction in unique circumstances. Blowing up a bridge is, of course, not much of a challenge, and sure, my men can do this, but I’m merely following instructions. According to my agency, the admiral’s STAR Force SEALs excel in this kind of work, where precision is involved. I cannot afford to have that truckload of girls killed by mistake.” Her voice hardened at the thought, and she added, lowering her voice to get their attention. “The men outside aren’t trained for that and I can’t use Interpol operatives. Your team is here to help me out.”
NOPAIN was as simple as it sounded—non-physical and innovative negotiation. Yet it was more complicated than blowing up bridges. She bit back a grin as she looked into Jazz’s suspicious eyes. What were they going to do—argue against their own expertise?
She took advantage of the silence and switched on the screen behind her. She had prepared a photo of Dilaver’s three-vehicle convoy taken by satellite. Immediately, the men’s attention turned away from her. NOPAIN one, SEALs zero.
“A quick run-through. At the speed of travel, the hostiles should be at target point in roughly sixty hours. However, it’s been raining, and we have to prepare for delays. You will have to tell me the time the team needs to set up the bridge. The weather will be the main factor.”
Hawk spoke up. “Mud,” he said. Vivi waited, but he didn’t seem to think further explanation was needed.
She nodded in agreement. “Their drivers’ experience with muddy terrain comes into question, especially as they get closer to the bridge. The river is overflowing, and there are some soft spots that will slow them down. My men have already made sure the trail on the other side of the bridge will be muddier than usual.” She clicked the switch again, and the photo zoomed larger. “The first vehicle will have Dilaver. He will cross first. The second one is the extraction target—the girls are in there. You can tell by the larger back portion of the truck with its sealed bolts. The last one is the guards. We’ve been watching them. Sometimes they switch with Dilaver’s vehicle and they go first, but the target truck is always in the middle.”
“How many women?” Jazz asked very quietly.
“At least a dozen,” Vivi answered just as quietly. “They are very young, probably kidnapped or runaways. They have been either drugged or starved so they will be very weak.”
“Why the need to transport them to the Triads when there are plenty of girls here?”
“Because their business is more than the women,” Vivi said. She kept her voice toneless, keeping her anger under control. “The exchange of women is just a goodwill gesture. Nothing like mixing pleasure with business.”
Cucumber let out a string of insulting expletives, some of which were very painful to the male anatomy. “Yes, I couldn’t agree more,” Vivi continued, “and here is the hard part. We have to separate Dilaver’s vehicle from the other two. The guards are dispensable, but Dilaver must be allowed to escape. Meanwhile, you have to make sure the truck with our girls stays out of harm’s way.”
There was silence as the men in the room digested the new piece of information. She knew they had assumed that Dilaver would be either killed or captured, but that wasn’t in her orders. She looked at Hawk. He should have similar instructions in his envelope. Obviously he hadn’t shared everything with his men yet. Or with Jazz. They were doing that silent communication thing again.
“We let the bastard go?” Cucumber asked, disgusted. “Why the hell would we want to do that? Get that scum now. Better sooner than later, right?”
“That isn’t the plan,” Hawk confirmed.
“Why the hell not?”
Hawk shrugged. “Orders.”
“I can’t believe Mad Dog wants scum like Dilaver alive,” Dirk said.
“What would happen if he gets killed?” Cucumber asked, playing with the big weapon in front of him. “By mistake, of course.”
Vivi heard the underlying threat. The room buzzed with agreement as the men commented on allowing Dilaver to escape. Soldiers. They were always thinking of a kill. For once she agreed; monsters like Dilaver should be canceled right off the bat. But she had learned from experience that sometimes, to achieve the goal, one had to lose a few battles.
“What would you be doing, Miss Verreau?” Jazz interrupted.
Unlike the others, he hadn’t voiced his opinion about Dilaver. There was something about the way his mind worked that really intrigued her. Everyone went for the obvious, but he kept bringing up the one important thing that she had been trying to get them to ignore. Her presence.
“I’ll be keeping out of your way, of course,” she replied smoothly.
His smile held a hint of disbelief but he didn’t challenge her. She was beginning to understand another thing about Jazz Zeringue. He was too much of a gentleman.
She smiled back sweetly. Nice guys were easier to be manipulated.
Stefan wasn’t a conventional man, but the sight of Alissa and her brother sitting so close together before him left a bad taste in his mouth. He took a long swallow of rice wine. Although he had suspected that Alissa got where she was through sex, it hadn’t occurred to him until now that she would extend her power base in her family with the same method. Being the favorite Triad sister obviously meant more than sibling love.
“My sister must like you very much, Stefan. She doesn’t give out my private number to just anyone.” His French was very good, without the local accent. “In fact, you’re the first.”
Alissa’s brother cut off a piece of apple. The knife glinted sharply in the dim light as the fruit made its way to his mouth. He tapped the corner of his lips with the blade. When Alissa immediately curled up to him to lick the juice off, he placed a lazy arm around her shoulders, curling his fingers into her hair.
Stefan didn’t answer. He knew this man. He was one of the Triad brothers, known for their ruthlessness and power. Unlike Alissa, who had mixed blood, his features were local, with a low, wide forehead; high cheekbones; and small, slanted eyes. There was an angry scar above his wide, thin lips, and it moved whenever he spoke, as if it had a life of its own, reminding those looking that the owner was a violent man.
Right now he appeared to be in a congenial mood. Perhaps the heavy meal of goose and mango rice, with the ever-present filled cup of rice wine, contributed to it. But Stefan was not taking it for granted. He had noticed that the wine had barely any effect on his host as he finished cup after cup, challenging Stefan to match him.
“So tell me, what can a man like you offer me? I have plenty of dealers and information sources. My sister insisted you will be of help, that your information had added to her coffers.” His voice was mocking as he added, “And that you had serviced her well.”
Alissa looked very comfortable next to her brother, bending over to take a bite from his apple. They obviously had a very close relationship, Stefan noted with quiet sarcasm. Alissa might or might not be a half-sibling, but there was no mistaking the intimacy of the two as being more than brother and sister.
“I heard you’re interested in a large shipment of the new drug. I can get that for you,” Stefan said.
“I can get that through my usual channels,” the other man countered in a bored voice, but his eyes were bright with cunning. “Do you have a better price offer? Or perhaps you have no customers because I own everything around here?”
Stefan waited as the two of them laughed heartily. “I normally don’t deal with drugs,” he said after they subsided. “This is a favor for a friend, and Alissa was very happy with the pills. Weren’t you?”
Alissa smiled coyly as she caressed her brother’s hand
dangling lazily over her shoulders. “The customers liked the girls who took them, Yeekohkoh.”
Yeekohkoh was a Chinese familial term that meant second brother. This man was the middle brother of the trio who called themselves Sam Tai Yeh—Three Big Masters—or as the West knew them, the Triads. The second brother had a reputation for ruthless torture, the one who had expanded the gang’s power base from prostitution and gambling to more international crimes. Such as drugs.
“Mmm-hmm…and I will try a sampling tonight.” He bent his head, pulling Alissa closer for a noisy kiss.
Stefan watched dispassionately as the couple took their time. As a middleman, he had talked to many strange characters, some more powerful than others. This deal was a favor to get to bigger things. He could take a few incestuous kisses to get what he wanted.
“Yes, I understand favors. I also understand business, and Alissa tells me you’re an excellent businessman.” The gangster lazily waved his knife. “Tell me, if I do business with you, what is this favor from which you will profit? And do I get a cut?”
Stefan smiled slowly. He appreciated intelligence, especially in matters of profit and loss. “I’m an expert in international weapons. All things are negotiable if you’re willing to share”—he eyed Alissa briefly—“favors.”
The knife caressed Alissa’s chin, tipping it up. She stared back at her brother unflinchingly, her lips parted. “I live to please my Alissa,” the man replied softly. “We’re practically family. Won’t you call me Yeekoh?”
It wasn’t just a simple invitation. To call the man across the table “second brother” meant being accepted. Stefan didn’t decline the fresh cup of wine from the servant girl. He looked across the table. “Salute,” he said, keeping the triumph from his voice.
CHAPTER
10
Vivi looked around the busy restaurant for her superior. As she had done many times before, T. was testing her. Her gaze swept slowly around the many tables, especially those on the patio. It was almost teatime, and many of the customers were dressed casually, some of the sun-pinked faces shaded by wide-brimmed hats.
Vivi smiled at the hostess. “No, it’s okay, I’m lunching with a friend,” she told her, before walking toward T.
T. looked up from her menu. Her hair was light auburn and pulled back in a chignon. Small stylish glasses perched on her nose, which looked sunburned, as if she had been sitting outside too long the day before. Freckles liberally dotted her cheeks, chest and arms.
“You should really take care of your sensitive skin,” Vivi commented dryly as she sat down. It had been almost impossible to recognize T. She looked exactly as she intended—a holidaying European. “A wide-brimmed hat maybe.”
“Then how would you know it’s me, chérie?” T. mocked, sliding the glasses off her nose. Her eyes were a startling green. “You’re out of practice. Took you almost five minutes.”
It wasn’t smugness. It was just T. reminding her there was no room for mistakes. Keeping with protocol, she was wearing something that would be familiar to just the two of them. Since T. usually did not reveal the item to any of her operatives, Vivi had been wracking her brain all morning, trying to think of all the possible items T. might use. Unless it was during a dangerous and urgent mission, T. always found it amusing to keep everyone on their toes.
Vivi studied the brightly colored fish-shaped hairpin in her friend’s hair. “You do know that thing clashes with red hair, don’t you?”
T. smiled. “Poor Ma’moiselle Millicent Legaux is sort of color-challenged. As well as a bit clumsy in real life. This is her first real holiday after years and years of slaving on the eighth floor of the library. She isn’t used to being outside for such long stretches.”
“So I see,” Vivi said wryly. “So where is the real Millicent Legaux holidaying?”
T’s eyebrows arched mockingly. “She’s being taken care of, which brings me to you. You wanted me to take care of something?”
“Yes.” Vivi thought of the contents of the package the stranger had given her.
“Does it have to do with those beautiful creatures on tape this morning?” T. fluttered her eyes exaggeratedly. She was referring to the navy SEALs under their protection, of course. “Oh my, all those naked hard abs and steely-eyed testosterone. How did you deal with their macho indignation at being caught without their clothes on?”
Vivi grinned. She knew her commander hadn’t been viewing those disks of the men training and their subsequent questions from that morning for eye candy alone. Her grin widened at the memory of how upset they were.
“I have a very good teacher,” she replied.
“Oh, you did excellent. Good mental distraction, directing their focus onto relevant things. If it’s okay, I’ve already ordered for us.” T. smiled at the waiter who appeared with a jug and glass of water for Vivi.
It amused Vivi to see how quickly that cocky grin had changed into a demure smile. The waiter smiled back and the mousy “librarian” became all gangly and nervous, adjusting her glasses and playing with her napkin. When he leaned over to collect the menus, she dropped her napkin in nervous surprise. He bent down to pick it up at the same time and they banged heads.
T. even blushed realistically. It was amazing to watch, even as the nearby patrons laughed a little. When the waiter stood up, T. pushed her chair back to give him room, bumping into him and causing him to drop the menus and tray he was holding. Her horrified apologies came out in a string of fluent French and Vivi had to hide another grin as T. bent over to help the poor man and her head met his chin again in perfect timing. By the time the waiter went on his way, rubbing his chin and shaking his head, every eye in the restaurant was on their table.
“Was the performance for my benefit?” Vivi asked, after the laughter around them subsided.
T. shook her head, a small smile of satisfaction on her lips. “So tell me.” She wasn’t even out of breath.
Vivi gave a short summary of her encounter with the mysterious stranger and the envelope. “He claims he has been watching me for a while,” she continued, “and there is a high percentage that my disguise has been compromised.”
That was potentially serious news. If she was compromised, she could put many operations in jeopardy.
T.’s demeanor didn’t change as she sipped her drink. “Love this local sweet stuff,” she said, spooning the fruit out of the glass. “What’s in the envelope?”
“He said it’s a show of good faith. Inside is a picture of Sia-Sia,” Vivi said.
“A current photo?”
“No, it’s one of her around the age of the last time I saw her.”
“So your friend could be dead.” T. looked at her thoughtfully. “This man knows who you’re looking for but with an old picture, that doesn’t mean he has anything new to add. What else did he say?”
“That he has answers for me, but like you said, it could be just bait. When I asked him what he wanted in exchange, he said, ‘My freedom,’ whatever that means.”
“Oh I love a mystery man,” T. said, chewing on her straw. With her freckled face and red nose, she didn’t look anything like the sophisticated woman from the other night. “Dark and secretive. Spiderman techniques. Ooh la la. I would like to test his other…abilities.”
Vivi cocked her head. “Your hormones are on high these days, T. First running from a man, then it’s the group of SEALs, now it’s a faceless man. Are you sure you’re okay?”
T.’s green eyes were twinkling. “You’re the one bumping around with these luscious men and you’re asking me whether I’m okay?”
Vivi rolled her eyes. “I’m not bumping!”
“You think not? Well, let’s see which of our two guys here will do the bumping.”
Before Vivi could ask what she meant, T. jerked unexpectedly and her glass of water toppled over, wetting the tablecloth and dripping all over her clothes. Her shriek sounded very real but Vivi knew better. “Mon dieu! This is so careless! I have to go cha
nge my clothes, mon ami…and I’m sorry I’ll miss the meal with you and your friend, but here he is!”
Vivi turned around in surprise and could only gape at the sight of Jazz a few feet away, walking toward them with a big white towel. Even from where she was, she could see that his blue eyes were gleaming with laughter.
“Let me help, mesdemoiselles,” he offered gallantly, wiping excess water on the table.
“Why are you here?” Vivi asked in a low voice, glaring at T., who was busy dabbing at her shirt.
“I was looking for you,” he said. “Then I heard everyone laughing at some commotion and naturally, it had to be you, chouchou. No one can draw attention like you do. And you too, mademoiselle.”
T. fluttered her eyes, acting pleased and nervous. Her voice was breathless and stuttering. “I…why thank you. Oh…my. I’m so glad to meet you but I really have to go back to my room to change out of these sticky things. Please, stay and keep Vivi company. Here, have my seat.” She stood up and immediately walked right into Jazz, who had to steady her as she stumbled backward.
Vivi rolled her eyes. She watched, half exasperated and half pissed off, as her chief held on to Jazz’s T-shirt for dear life, sliding way too comfortably against his chest. She bit her tongue as T. went off in excited French about good food and wonderful, helpful men, and then somehow tripped over her shopping bag, which of course, brought her even closer to Jazz. He was the absolute gentleman, picking up the bag and offering to carry it for T., and reassuring that she looked fine and could still join them. And all along T. had her hands all over his body.
Vivi caught herself wanting to yell at T. Blinking back her surprise at the unexpected jealousy, she didn’t say anything as T. snatched up the package from the table, gave her a parting wink, and went off like a whirlwind, leaving behind a bemused Jazz.