by Linzi Basset
He didn’t move or turn his head when his door opened after a brief knock.
“I’m sorry to disturb you, sir, but there is a lady here . . .” Her voice died away at the irritated glance he threw at her.
“I told you I don’t want to be disturbed, Lydia.”
“I know, sir and I told her as much, but she is insistent and refuses to leave. She said you will see her because she’s here to . . . I’m not sure what it means, but she says she’s here to discuss the Force of nature article with you? I assume it has something to do with your television appearance next week.”
Adam recognized the code name immediately. His gut clenched but his expression remained impassive. He glanced toward the reception area, but could only see the top of the blonde woman’s head.
“Did she give you her name?”
“No, sir, but she said you would know who she is. Was I mistaken?”
Adam didn’t reply immediately. He contemplated the situation. Samantha Frazer had just tipped the scales in her favor; but not for long. No one got the better of him.
“Bring her in, Lydia and make sure we’re not disturbed.”
Adam sat down behind his desk; his thoughts swirling.
How the devil did she find me out?
Only the director and his previous boss had known his alias. The Silver Sting was his team. He ruled them with an iron hand. No one walked away. She had been the first and only one who had.
His stare could’ve wilted a lesser woman but she returned it with an equally aggressive one of her own. Adam was taken aback, but didn’t show it. Samantha Frazer didn’t fear him. It was there in her eyes.
Samantha sat down in the chair he pointed at, wishing her heart would stop hammering in her chest. It sounded like percussion playing inside her body. In that moment she knew that Bulldog had been nothing more than a character, an act. She acknowledged that the man in front of her was the real deal, the powerhouse behind the name and he wasn’t afraid to show it to her. If he hadn’t been such a cruel bastard, such a trait might’ve been admirable but Samantha knew better.
His unnerving gaze sucked something out of her, but she’d be damned if she let him know it. She kept her expression calm and unaffected. Disregarding his silent salutation, she continued to stare at him.
“What can I do for you, miss?” He asked in an amused voice.
“Cut the crap, Adam Baxter. I know who you are.”
“Many people do, my dear. My promotion to the post of deputy director of the NCS has been widely reported.”
Samantha startled inwardly. He is the new DD of the NCS? What the fuck?
“That’s not what I meant. But then, you know that, don’t you . . . Bulldog?”
Adam couldn’t keep the annoyance from his face. For one thing, he didn’t believe she would be so brash, or maybe stupid.
“Yes, I know who you are and I’m not here to play games either. So, you can stop the pretense, Mr. Baxter. I’m not the naive, young girl you manipulated into your fold, nor am I an idiot.”
Anger boiled inside Adam’s system. The fucking bitch! He made a concerted effort to bring his rage under control. He had to find out how she knew his true identity.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he spat out, still struggling to contain the fury raging through his veins.
“I want to know how it’s possible for my sister to be alive. I saw her die.” She deliberately ignored the second question.
“Ah, so you saw her.” He settled his wide shoulders against the back of the chair and stretched his long legs out in front of him.
Samantha watched him smooth his tie in a nonchalant move. She felt the anger sizzle deep inside her. She supposed he was an attractive man but it wasn’t effortless.
“I’m not going to play a cat and mouse game, Bulldog. Answer me,” she demanded.
The flare in his eyes told her she’d made the right decision to come there and catch him off guard. He didn’t like to be bettered by a woman and it was clear in his posture that he’d believed his ‘handler identity’ was impenetrable. Now, he would realize that she too, had ways and means, and wasn’t scared to use them. But, she knew it was going to be short lived. Adam Baxter wasn’t the kind of man to stay on the back foot for long.
“It was touch and go. She was close to death when we arrived but they pulled her through.”
“Why were you even there?”
“We were already looking into the murders in the area, Ace. Some believed it was a cover for syndicates to keep the attention away from their dealings.” He shrugged. “But it wasn’t. In the end we found out it was nothing more than a bunch of lunatics on a killing spree, filling their pockets at the same time.”
“Why? Why tell the world she had died? Why bury her? Why make me believe she was dead?” Samantha shot the questions out like rapid gunfire. When his lips curved up, she wanted to reach across the wide table and slap the grin off his face.
“Why do you think, Ace? You had potential but you were a loose cannon.”
“Fuck that! All you needed to do was draft me. You didn’t have to—”
“You were only sixteen. Under normal circumstances there is always resistance from family and parents to release their children to such a life and besides, you already believed her to be dead. You were grieving and driven by the thirst for revenge. The doctors told me her recuperation would take at least a year. I didn’t have that much time. I needed to get you through training fast.”
“Why me?”
“There was something about you, Ace; your attention to detail, even at such a young age. Do you know how you came to be in my radar?”
“Fuck knows.”
He chuckled. It was obvious that he had his anger under control. “At the country fair a couple of weeks prior to the robbery; I was there under cover and watched you at the shooting range. You didn’t miss one target. Not one. I kept a watch on you after that. That was when I knew I had to have you; that you would be an asset. And you were, Ace.”
“Exactly, Bulldog. I was. I’m done. I told you six years ago. I am not killing under your watch ever again!”
He didn’t respond, just watched her through hooded eyes.
“Why did you keep her from me all these years?”
He shrugged. “Because I needed a hold over you, in case you walked away. You were recruited at such a young age; I gave you six years to enjoy the freedom of youth. Now, it’s time to step back in. That’s why, Ace. I knew at some point I would need a trump card.”
“What’s stopping me from going to her and taking her away?”
“You tell me, Ace. You know me, don’t you? She’ll die the minute you approach her; I wasn’t lying. Your sister is my ace and I have every intention of playing her.” He sat forward. His eyes lit like a storm cloud over the ocean. “In other words, my dear, either you do as I say, or this time, she dies for real.”
“And the little girl with her? Who is she?” She had to play his game. For now.
“That isn’t your concern. She might be your sister’s daughter, but then again, she might not be. You’ll never know; unless you do exactly what you’re told.”
“And that is to kill Rhone Greer. What danger does he pose to the country? From what I know, he’s a stellar citizen, a Green Beret and has received a purple star. You know I don’t kill for the sake of it, Bulldog. Either you give me a good reason or I—”
“Or you what? Are you ready to watch your sister die—for real, this time? Because I can arrange that, if your target isn’t eliminated in three weeks, Ace.”
Samantha breathed in slowly in an attempt to slow her racing heart.
“And then what? Once I’ve done that, what happens to Lauren?”
“Lauren, or Cynthia Marsh as she’s now known, will continue to live a happy life; maybe even get to know her sister again.”
Samantha got up. She pressed her hands on the desk and leaned forward.
“You’re a fucking bastard. You’
re gonna hold her over my head indefinitely, aren’t you? Who am I doing this job for, Baxter? TELL ME WHO! Because I sure as hell know it’s not for the CIA.”
“You will know in due time. For now, concentrate on the force of nature,” he barked shortly, referring to the code name issued to her latest target.
“I’ve come to understand that truth is treason in an empire of lies. Remember that, Adam Baxter. No one, not even you, are untouchable.”
Her mind was already swirling with plans of how to keep Rhone alive but she realized the only thing that would satisfy Bulldog was his death. She’d have to fake the hit. It would be the only way to pacify Bulldog. Then, she’d be able to get to Lauren and Beckie. But first, she’d have to gain Rhone and his friends’ trust and that wasn’t going to be an easy task.
Adam watched her leave. Her warning replayed in his mind like a stuck gramophone player. For the first time in his life he felt uneasy because he knew how Samantha operated. He was now in her visor and it would be very easy for her to turn her rifle on him. He had to tread lightly. With her, he couldn’t afford to become complacent.
* * * * * * * *
Samantha exited the elevator then walked so fast she was almost running and didn’t notice the large man walking toward her. She ran into him with such force that she ended on her butt with a loud, “Oomph’. A sharp retort rose to her lips, until she looked up. She knew who stood over her, even before their eyes met.
“What are you doing here?” She managed to stammer, shocked to see him standing over her like a marauder on a mission.
“I believe the better question would be, what are you doing here, Samantha? Especially, as you claim not to be working for the CIA anymore.”
Rhone yanked her to her feet and dragged her outside. She had to run to keep up with him. He ignored her furious protests and didn’t stop until he pushed her into the Hummer.
“Now. Talk,” he ordered grimly.
“How did you know where I was?”
His eyes narrowed. He reached under her hair and tapped the small padlock holding the collar in place around her throat.
“I had a tracker chip placed in the lock but I didn’t think you would have the audacity to give me the slip. Not until an hour ago.”
“You have a tracker—how dare you?”
“I dare, Samantha, because I will keep my friends safe. I warned you at the club that you’re gonna be attached to me like glue.” He pressed his face into hers. “Do not try this stunt again, Samantha. I won’t think twice before locking you in a room until I’ve dealt with whoever the fucker is you just met.”
He watched her lip disappear between her teeth but her golden eyes filled with anger.
“You aren’t the boss of me, Rhone Greer, nor do you have the right to hold me prisoner. I am a citizen of the United States and—”
“Very well, let’s go,” he interrupted her colloquially. His hand around her elbow pulled her from the Hummer and she fell against him as he imbalanced her. He didn’t offer her time to find her bearings but started walking back in the direction of the main entrance.
Samantha tried to dig in her heels and hung back, but it was a fruitless exercise against his mammoth strength.
“What are you doing?”
“You don’t want to talk to me, so we’re gonna find whoever you just walked away from.”
“No! Are you fucking crazy? Rhone, stop! You can’t do this,” she begged, still trying to pull him in the opposite direction. “Besides, what are you going to do? Drag me from floor to floor, office to office?”
“If that’s what it will take to flush him out, then yes,” he snapped and continued toward the elevators. “Let’s see, from what I recall, you were coming from the third floor, so let’s start there, shall we?”
“Rhone, I beg you, please don’t do this,” she pleaded. “He will kill her. And for all I know, if he sees us together, Beckie too.” She grasped at straws as a final resort.
That stopped him in his tracks. Samantha cringed when he turned cold eyes on her. She felt chilled to the bone as she watched his expression became hard.
“Why? Why would he do anything to Beckie?” She could imagine how his brain scrambled as he tried to connect the dots in his mind. It was there in his eyes the moment he made the connection. His eyes turn molten silver as realization dawned.
“It’s me. I’m your target.”
She didn’t have to respond. The way her face went pasty white was answer enough. It was the first time Samantha was unable to keep her emotions in check.
“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. It won’t be the first time I’ve had the bullseye on my head.”
He turned and dragged her back to the car. He didn’t say another word until he started the engine. He stared ahead, his gaze unflinching on the horizon.
“But that means, Ace, that you have become an extension of me from this moment on. Where you go, I go, even to watch you take shit. I have no intention of dying this young; definitely not from a sniper’s bullet.”
He pulled away from the curb, leaving her stunned when he continued dryly, “Now, if you were to fuck me to death, that I won’t mind.”
Chapter Eight
The opening of the club was a riot of color; everyone was hyped up and excited as they walked into the large, dimly-lit entertainment room. The ambiance was inviting and warm, enhanced by the sand stone walls, light scones on the walls and the rich wine-red leather sofas that were arranged in small intimate groups. The view of the city, through a wall of windows, was breathtaking. A soothing Gregorian sound track filled the acoustics of the room.
Rhone and Keon personally met every member at the door, while Jack, Max and Lance took turns at taking new members for a short tour of the club and the grounds, which included a beautiful maze. They had been amazed at the number of people eager to become members.
The seclusion and exclusivity of the club had been a great incentive for many members, who preferred to enjoy practicing their kink in private and be assured of confidentiality while doing so. Their association with Club Alpha Cove and Ruark Greer, who was well known in the community as The Liege of BDSM, also worked in their favor.
“Is this really necessary?” Samantha protested when Rhone cuffed her to one of the steel bars at the edge of the bar counter.
“Do you honestly expect an answer?” he said in his usual brusque manner. He tapped her on the nose, chuckling at the pouty expression. “Now, don’t you go anywhere.”
“Being a comedian isn’t in your repertoire, Master Razor,” Samantha condemned him with a chilling glare.
She simmered as his rich laughter turned her inside out before he walked away. Her eyes automatically dropped to his enticing butt, molded by a pair of tight leathers that hung low on his hips. With it, he only wore an open, leather waistcoat with a black tie loosely knotted around his neck. He looked good enough to eat—no condiments required.
“It’s just not fair that he should have so much sex appeal,” she sighed with regret at the cruel hand fate had dealt her. He was the only man who made her want a happily-ever-after for the first time in her life.
With him.
She brushed her fingers over the smooth, white gold choker around her neck. She’d been flabbergasted when he walked into the room while she was getting dressed and replaced the leather collar with the most gorgeous Cuban chain choker. It was made of white gold and diamonds, interlinked exquisitely. She reflected on that moment, still confused.
“What’s this for?” she asked in a befuddled voice. “It’s beautiful, though,” her voice turned to a hoarse whisper.
He shrugged and concentrated on the intricate lock at her neck. “You’re my sub. This is much better suited to your beauty than the other one.”
“Your pretend sub,” she blithely reminded him.
“Maybe if you say it often enough, you’ll believe that, my pet. Now, hurry up. The rest of the guys have arrived already.”
Samantha bel
atedly closed her mouth as she stared after him, realizing her jaw had fallen slack at his response.
“Rhone Greer! Get back here. Just what did you mean by that?”
But the daft man had already disappeared down the hallway.
He confused her. He was like the weather; hot one minute and then a raging cold blizzard the next. She frowned as she tried to make sense of his words. For one thing, he doesn’t trust me.
“I’ve never seen such a beautifully crafted piece of wood before. This is gorgeous. It must have taken a master to do this.”
Samantha beamed at the praise from members appreciating the wooden bar counter. This was why she did it. She liked creating beautiful things. More people arrived and her smile became wider. Everyone was in awe of the engraved counter and she basked in the praises she overheard.
* * * * * * * *
“It’s a pity Jaden and Reece couldn’t make it,” Keon remarked as they walked toward the bar. Everyone on the invitation list had arrived and two subs, Gloria and Giselle, who were manning the reception desk, could manage on their own.
“Yeah, those two know how to liven up any party, especially a BDSM treasure hunt,” Rhone agreed.
Jaden Bower and Reece Talbot, Lance’s cousin, were their friends from school days and managed the Precision Secure offices in Los Angeles. They hadn’t joined Rhone and Keon in Washington. They owned a vineyard in Malibu and weren’t willing to trade it for the city life. Rhone didn’t blame them. Their estate was built on the highest ridge in the mountains and they had a lucrative winery.
“Before we join your sub at the bar, care to enlighten me about that chain of events? I didn’t even know the two of you knew each other and the next thing I heard, you committed to a D/s agreement with her.”
Rhone glanced at the woman under discussion. She was chatting animatedly with Courtney, Ziva and Ivanka—Bracus’ wife. Slade had accompanied Bracus and Ruark to celebrate the opening of the club.
“Look at her, Keon. Do you blame me?”