Elite Ops Complete Series

by Lora Leigh

  “I guess it was too much to hope that whoever hired him would get stupid, just once,” Bailey stated in disgust.

  “The men here aren’t stupid, and neither are the women,” Travis mused. “They can get careless, though, as can their security personnel. I’ll see what I can find out from there in the next few days.” He looked at John. “The boss is getting concerned. It seems the CIA is making noise about investigating Warbucks again. They caught a hint of this sale. So far he’s managed to keep them off track, but that won’t last long.”

  “It’s likely not working at all,” Bailey told them. “The men here aren’t the only smart ones. The agency wants Warbucks, and they want him alive.”

  “Too bad,” John murmured as he turned back to Travis.

  “Rodriquez didn’t survive interrogation,” Travis said, keeping his voice quiet. “His body will be left where local law enforcement can find it in a few days. He didn’t suffer greatly. He just didn’t survive.”

  Bailey knew what Travis wasn’t saying. Rodriquez had been executed. When his body was found that would be apparent, and it would fit with his history. There would be no investigation outside the team Travis and John worked with.

  “I’ve suggested Warbucks may have been behind it,” John warned Travis. “As I expressed to Raymond Greer, a goodwill gesture, if he wasn’t involved, may be appropriate.”

  There was that look again. As though they were keeping something from her that they knew they shouldn’t be.

  “What’s going on with Raymond?” She lowered her voice to a breath of sound as that mental note kicked in. “And don’t bother telling me nothing.”

  Travis and John shared “the look” again. It was beginning to get on her nerves.

  “If the two of you didn’t want to tell me, then you’d better watch your expressions,” she stated irritably. “Spit it out now and get it over with, if you don’t mind.”

  Travis glanced at her with a brooding look as John breathed out heavily.

  “Not yet.” His voice was a breath of sound. “We’re not safe enough. Not yet.”

  She wanted to kick both of them. “Whatever.” She rose from her chair, finished with the conversation now. She had her own suspicions, suspicions she wanted to reject simply because she detested Raymond Greer so thoroughly. But she had to admit that she detested a lot of the men she’d worked with.

  If Raymond had been setting himself up to move into Warbucks’s sphere, then his attitude would make perfect sense. It would also explain his sincere affection for his wife, which she would have never believed if she hadn’t seen for herself.

  She grimaced at the thought. She didn’t want to suspect what she was starting to suspect. It meant she was going to have to change her perceptions, and she really didn’t like doing that.

  Turning back to both of them, she considered them with a narrow frown before mouthing, “Raymond’s covert.”

  John glanced at Travis, then to her, and nodded sharply.

  Fuck. Dammit.

  She stomped her foot against the rug before kicking out a pillow that had lain forgotten in the floor. With her good arm she swept the blankets off the bed, kicked them, and cursed silently again before turning on the two men again.

  She didn’t want to believe it, she really didn’t. She detested Raymond. Arrogant. Superior. Conceited. The man was an asshole. He couldn’t be a good guy. She wouldn’t allow it. She didn’t want to accept it even as she knew she was going to be forced to.

  She’d spent years investigating Raymond, so she knew his cover was damned deep. That took careful planning. It took an agent setting himself up, effectively going rogue, and aligning himself with a backup team no one would suspect.

  John’s team.

  She glared at him. Her teeth clenched until she was afraid she was going to crack her own molars.

  “I hate him,” she mouthed.

  John’s lips tightened as he fought back the grin that she knew wanted to shape his lips. Travis’s head ducked as he hid his amusement. He was a hell of a lot smarter than John.

  And they were keeping her blind. They had held this information back, giving those damned silent signals and making her figure this out on her own. They could have just told her.

  Raymond’s cover was sensitive, though, she knew that. If he was covert here, they couldn’t take the chance that even a breath of it reached Warbucks. They could cover their own conversations, they could hide their true purpose beneath a million excuses. But an explanation of Raymond’s position couldn’t have been covered or excused.

  She pushed her hair back from her face, almost wincing at the pain that sliced through her upper arm.

  She hated this, she really did. She had actually plotted and planned Greer’s death with great precision and pleasure. Backpedaling from that mind-set was not going to be fun.

  “Assholes,” she muttered before picking up the blankets and pillows and tossing them back on the bed.

  Both men were so obviously holding back their amusement that she could have shot them both.

  Now she had to do some serious rethinking about a man she completely hated.

  She blamed John for that. It was going to be all his fault until hell froze over.

  As she stomped over to the coffeepot, a firm knock sounded on the door. She wanted to groan at the thought of yet more surprises coming her way.

  Rising quickly to his feet, Travis took his coffee cup and retreated to the connecting room as John moved to the door and opened it carefully.

  “Mr. Vincent.” Myron stood on the other side of the panel. “A moment of your time, if I may?”

  John stepped back as Myron moved past him, his gaze raking over the room before taking in the state of the blankets. Bailey glanced at them, let her lips twitch, then turned back to Myron. It looked as though they had been playing in the bed. Well, actually, they had been.

  “How can I help you, Myron?” John closed the door behind him and moved to the wet bar at the side. “A drink?”

  “No thank you,” Myron said politely as he stepped over to the seating area. “Could we sit, please?”

  Moving to Bailey, John settled a hand at her back as he led her to the love seat across from the chair Myron had taken.

  “You’re doing well?” Myron asked her as she and John sat down.

  “I’m better.” She nodded, keeping her expression calm.

  “Good. Good.” He rubbed his hands together as he leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “I’d first like to extend Warbucks’s apology for the attack. We’re not exactly certain who ordered it, but we’re tracking the money sent to Rodriquez’s account. We should have answers soon.”

  “I’m tracking the information as well,” John informed him. “I have my own sources.”

  Myron nodded. “I expected as much. Warbucks has asked that you allow him the pleasure of taking care of this for you, though. He has, over the years, taken extreme measures to protect Bailey from any danger. It disturbs him greatly to believe that one of our own, more or less, would strike out at her for any reason. This society polices itself when possible. Warbucks will police this issue.”

  Bailey was aware of John staring back at Myron for long, tense moments before replying. “If he can produce results,” John finally said, shrugging. “If he doesn’t, then I’ll take care of it myself.”

  “Good enough.” Myron sat back in his chair and stared at them for long, silent moments before continuing. “I always knew I liked you for a reason, Bailey,” he finally stated. “Over the years you’ve surprised me more than once with the operations you’ve covered for Warbucks. You knew he was part of your extended family. How?”

  Her brow arched. “Really, Myron, it wasn’t that hard. The thefts were connected too many times and in too many ways back home. There was no mistaking it, if you grew up surrounded by certain men and their idiosyncrasies.”

  “Yet you haven’t identified him,” Myron stated.

  “I tried no
t to get too involved,” she answered. “I knew who I suspected, just as I knew how dangerous he could be. If he wanted me to know who he was, he would have told me.”

  Myron nodded slowly. “Yes, you were always very cautious as a child as well. Curious, inquisitive. But cautious. That very much suits your personality.”

  He seemed subdued, Bailey thought. She had never seen him this quiet or hesitant in anything.

  “Warbucks has built his persona carefully,” Myron went on. “He built it by ensuring that only one person knew who he was. It was the only way to be certain. That person is myself. Even Raymond has no idea of his identity.”

  John shifted beside her. “That can’t continue, Myron.” He voiced the warning softly. “Warbucks’s deals are growing. He’s not going to get the price he’s demanding for his acquisitions without a level of trust. The only way to succeed in that would be in using you as a broker rather than hiring it out.”

  Myron nodded. “I’m not as young as I once was,” he breathed out regretfully. “That job is for a younger man. As I expressed to Warbucks, what we need is our own personal broker. A man we can trust to hold our secrets, and one whom our clients will trust to verify the products and ensure their legitimacy.” He looked between Bailey and John. “If this is a position you’d be interested in, then Warbucks will approve your contract for the job and meet with you to verify the acquisitions and discuss the terms.”

  Bailey barely managed to hold back the rush of adrenaline that surged through her. This was the break they had been waiting for. This was what they had worked toward. So many years, and so many deaths, and the end was now within reach.

  “Terms can be discussed.” John finally nodded thoughtfully, cautiously. “That would require a great amount of trust from both parties, Myron. As well as a much larger cut. By associating as a retainer of sorts, I’d have to be extremely careful to ensure other interests weren’t affected, and if they were, I’d be forced to drop those clients. That could cost me.”

  Myron grinned at the information. “You’re a superior businessman,” he commended him. “That’s pretty much what Warbucks expected from you. He’s preparing his offer. The two of you can discuss terms and percentages after you’ve had a chance to inspect the acquisitions for auction.”

  John nodded again, his expression, his entire demeanor thoughtful. “I’ll look forward to that meeting then.”

  Myron rose slowly to his feet. “You and Bailey will come alone,” he informed John. “No security. You’ll have to trust that Warbucks considers you important enough to provide for that. The meeting will take place tomorrow night.”

  John rose slowly to his feet. “He’s expecting a lot of trust for very little in return,” he stated.

  Myron inclined his head in agreement before turning to Bailey. She could see something in his eyes, a tiredness, a wariness that warned her everything wasn’t as calm as Myron wanted them to believe between himself and his employer.

  “Bailey has extended her trust and has been rewarded countless times in return. Haven’t you, my dear?” he asked her.

  “Many times,” Bailey agreed, even as she hated acknowledging it.

  “Very well,” John finally said, though it was apparent he wasn’t comfortable with it. “I’ll accept Bailey’s trust in this.” His arm went around her back once again as he pulled her close. “We look forward to the meeting.”

  “Very good.” Myron smiled again before rising and moving to Bailey.

  Gripping her hands, he stared down at her fondly. “I watched you grow,” he said softly. “I didn’t always agree with you, but I must say, you’ve turned out to be a fine young woman. One I have the highest respect for.”

  He bent, kissed her cheek, then moved away from them.

  “I’ll see my own way out,” he stated. “Good night.”

  The door closed behind him seconds later.

  Emerging from the connecting room, Travis stared at John and Bailey curiously. John moved to the dresser, pulled the electronic listening device detector from the drawer, and went over the area Myron had been in.

  He found two devices he’d left in place. Drawing Bailey over to the door, he indicated that they keep their voices low.

  “Call the boss?” Travis asked softly.

  John nodded. “We don’t have much time. Get it together.”

  Bailey moved away from him as Travis retreated to his room, her gaze returning to the door before moving to the position of the listening devices. Myron had been smooth, very smooth. She hadn’t even noticed him placing the bugs on the chair and beneath the little table that separated it from the love seat.

  Turning back to John, she watched him with a strange sense of regret. It was almost over. Almost. Twenty-four more hours and they would achieve both their goals. Warbucks would die.

  Would John Vincent then “die” as had Trent had, leaving her forever?

  She told herself she was prepared for this, but as she stared back at him she realized that no preparation could have steeled her for it.

  They had one more night together. It would have to last forever.

  CHAPTER 21

  BAILEY HAD PROMISED HERSELF over the past two weeks that she wouldn’t regret the end of the mission. She wouldn’t beg John not to leave her, she wouldn’t hurt either of them with anger or recriminations. She had built her memories. She had loved him with everything she had inside her. She had given him every part of her heart, her soul. She hadn’t held back. She hadn’t saved enough of herself to go on, and she knew it.

  The next evening she dressed in jeans, a heavy sweater, and hiking boots. A long leather jacket was laid out on the bed. A search of the garment would reveal nothing, but she knew where the weapons were. A small knife here and there, but no gun.

  They were to go unarmed, and there was no way hide a weapon other than the smallest and most inconspicuous.

  Such as the derringer in the heel of her hiking boots. That was the best she could do. The other heel held ammunition. She could possibly get by with it. She was damned sure going to try.

  John was dressed similarly. Jeans, a heavy sweater, boots, and a long black leather jacket.

  At least they could be tracked. Several skin tags dotted her bare skin, just as they did John’s. The small trackers had only a few seconds of activation, just enough to pinpoint their location for the backup team that would move in once Warbucks was identified and the missiles verified. How they would know that, she wasn’t certain. She knew it had something to do with the watch Travis had given John earlier. Hopefully, it would work as it was supposed to.

  They were to take no cell phones, Raymond had told them earlier that day. No communication devices at all. This was a meet, greet, and verify. They would see the missiles again when the auction took place in seven more days.

  This was a gesture of trust and goodwill, plain and simple, as far as Warbucks was concerned. As far as Bailey was concerned this was the end of Warbucks’s little game. Once the night ended she and John would be dead, or Warbucks would be.

  “Ready?” John glanced at her before looking at his watch. “We have ten minutes to meet Myron and Raymond in the garage.”

  She pulled her coat from the bed and shrugged it on, wishing she had a dependable weapon for that last bit of added security.

  “Ready.” She glanced out the window to see the heavy snow falling outside. She wondered if the weather would make tracking more difficult.

  John hadn’t been able to describe the safeguards he and Travis had in place. Travis had left an hour before, his cover being orders from John to begin work on the transportation lines they had already prepared for the sale. It was a reliable story, and one that neither Myron nor Raymond had questioned.

  Moving from the bedroom, she felt John’s hand against her lower back as they descended the back stairs to the hall outside the kitchen, then walked the short distance to the heavy metal door that led to the garage.

  The four-by-four Hummer limo
was waiting for them, warmed and running, a driver and guard standing by the doors.

  “Mr. Vincent. Miss Serborne.” The driver nodded as John helped Bailey into the back where both Myron and Raymond awaited them.

  The two men were silent as the limo pulled out into the falling snow, following the driveway that curved around the cabin, cut through the small valley, and merged into the main road.

  “I think you’ll be very pleased with our acquisition, John,” Myron stated as the limo began to gather speed. “It’s the culmination of a lifetime of connections and contacts. Warbucks has found that most men and women, even the most patriotic, will do anything to cover their human weaknesses. Everything is for sale, if you simply know that weakness.” Myron seemed almost paternally proud of Warbucks’s ability to procure America’s ultra-secret weapons.

  “What makes a man weak can also make him undependable,” John reminded the other. “Warbucks has been incredibly lucky as well.”

  “Yes, Lady Luck does often smile down on him.” Myron grinned fondly. “As though he’s blessed.”

  Or cursed, Bailey thought.

  “Warbucks will meet you at the warehouse,” Raymond stated then. “You’ll verify the product before your meeting with him in case you have any questions.”

  It was all very business-like, very civil. Bailey was once again amazed at how normal criminals could sometimes seem. As though it never once entered their mind that they were breaking the law, or that they were responsible for lives lost. All that mattered at the end of the day was that almighty dollar and how many of them could be accumulated in the shortest amount of time.

  “Transportation routes have been laid out for you,” Myron said. “The routes we have in place are exceptionally secure. You’re more than welcome to use those, or you can use your own. But once the missiles are in your possession, Warbucks is no longer responsible for them.”

  John inclined his head slowly. “I’m well aware of that, Myron. Travis is gathering our team together now and preparing for transportation. If your lines are better than ours, though, I’d be more than happy to accept your generosity.”