Dire Distraction

by Dee Davis

  Then he thrust deeper as she pulled him closer, urging him onward. Together they began to move, finding their own private rhythm—until there was nothing but the two of them and the incredible sensation of the dance.

  She closed her eyes, letting the motion carry her away. Aware of only the feel of him inside her, filling her, their fervor increasing with each touch, each movement raising the stakes, heightening the pleasure.

  There should have been fear, uncertainty about tomorrow, but instead she felt only joy. This was where she belonged. Here. Now. With Avery. Together they moved faster and faster, deeper and harder, until the pleasure exploded, and there was nothing but the power of her orgasm and the feel of his breath against her skin.

  Later, when the sun had risen higher in the sky, they lay together, arms and legs tangled, her head resting on his chest as she listened to the rise and fall of his breathing. Her mind drifted. Her body, for the moment, satiated.

  “We should get up, you know,” she said, her inertia contradicting her words. “Your team will be looking for you.”

  “My team can wait,” he said, rolling over so that they were eye to eye.

  “But they flew half way across the world to rescue you,” she protested.

  “And in the process saved something even more precious.”

  She shivered, the tenderness in his voice almost her undoing as he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “How did they find us anyway?” she asked, afraid to follow the train of his conversation any further. “I know they’re good, but it’s not like anyone knew where we were going. Or what we’d be walking into.”

  “Hannah was keeping tabs on us through other contacts here. And when our boat was reported destroyed, she tried to reach me.”

  “But the sat phone didn’t work.”

  “Exactly. Which got her worried, so she called in the troops and they tracked the phone’s GPS signal. Apparently with the battery on, the signal was still there, even though the phone itself didn’t work. And they had the signal from your watch as well. So between the two of us, they could triangulate our position.”

  “And ride to our rescue,” she finished for him. “Nicely done.”

  “As I’ve said before, they’re a great team. Real heroes. Are you sure you’re really okay?” he asked, his thumb grazing the bruise on her cheek.

  “I’m fine. I promise.”

  “And the men who took you?” His gaze was probing now. “I take it they weren’t Shrum’s.”

  “One of them was. Sai, the man I hit in the head. Or at least he was pretending to be. But when the attack started, he was clearly part of the offensive. In fact, he’s the one who killed Edward and the other men who were initially taking me back to the cell.”

  “And they were trying to get you out of the compound?”

  “Yes. The intent was definitely to take me alive. As opposed to you and Shrum.”

  “Did they say why?”

  “No. But I was worried that it was because of my father. They talked about my making them rich, and I heard them say the word ambassador.”

  “Which means they knew who you were. And where you’d be. Interesting.”

  “What about Shrum?” she asked. “Did he have insight into who might be attacking?”

  “He didn’t. But the attack was clearly meant to take out the two of us. And considering the coordination it must have taken to plant the picture and track my decision to come here and confront Shrum, it would have taken sizable resources as well.”

  “You think it was the Consortium.”

  “It’s possible. There’s definitely evidence to support that, but there also seems to be a connection to the explosion in Iraq and Evangeline’s death.”

  “I’m not following.”

  “After Shrum left the CIA, he became obsessed with finding the person responsible for the bombing in Iraq. But he was having trouble getting access to the people who could give him the information he needed.”

  “So he made himself into someone they could trust. That way they’d be more inclined to share information.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Did Langley know?”

  “According to Shrum, yes. Which would explain why they were pulling you back.”

  “But surely his killing Tim overrode any understanding they might have had. I mean you said it yourself, we take care of our own.”

  “Except that he didn’t kill Tim.”

  “But…” she started, then stopped, trailing off, waiting.

  “He said he didn’t do it. That Tim never made it to his compound. And he vouched for his men as well.”

  “How the hell can you believe anything he said?”

  “Because I knew him. And because he was pretty damn sure it was Wai Yan. After we got here, I had Hannah run a check, and the way Tim was strung up fits Wai Yan’s manner of operation a hell of a lot more than Shrum’s.”

  “Do Tim’s people in London know?”

  “Yes. I made sure of it. And there’ll be a joint investigation. If it was Wai Yan, you can bet he’ll pay.”

  “Thank you,” she said, humbled that he’d have gone to so much trouble for a man he never knew. “Tim was a good man. He would have liked you.”

  “Under the circumstances, I kind of doubt that,” Avery smiled, the look in his eyes making her insides turn to jelly.

  “You asked about me,” she said, sucking in a breath for courage, knowing she needed to ask. “How I was. But what about you? You’re the one who had to face Shrum and the truth about the photograph. It had to be like losing her all over again.” She waited, not completely sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  “I think in my heart, I always knew the photo had to be a fake. It just didn’t make sense that Evangeline would have played me like that. She wasn’t the kind of woman to play games. If she’d wanted out, she’d have told me. But at the same time, I guess there was a little part of me that wanted it to be true. That didn’t want her to be dead.”

  “Because you loved her.” Just saying the words hurt, but Sydney couldn’t stop herself.

  Avery reached over to cup her chin in his hand. “Just because I loved her once, doesn’t mean I can’t love you now.”

  Her heart stopped, then started again, beating so hard she thought it might fly out of her chest altogether. “Are you sure?” The question came out on a squeak.

  Avery laughed and leaned in to kiss her. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  * * *

  Michael Brecht stared out the window of his personal jet, his mind racing as he watched the lights flashing at the end of the wing. So much hung in the balance. A-Tac was pressing closer, and Michael’s efforts to locate Joseph Isaacs had so far turned up nothing.

  Either the man really was dead or he’d found a deep hole to hide in. But Michael hadn’t risen to his position of power by leaving things to chance. So he’d ordered his people to keep watching. Sooner or later the man was bound to make a mistake, and when he did, they’d be ready.

  Loose ends were always a threat. And of late, it seemed that Michael was always putting out fires. Forced to react instead of taking the offensive. Leaning back against the soft leather of his seat, he sighed. It was time for success. Gregor was right, his inner Council was getting restless. And there wasn’t room for another failed attempt. Which meant stopping A-Tac once and for all.

  And the best way to kill any beast was to chop of its head. But Avery Solomon was worse than a cat. Always managing to land on his feet. Not only to survive, but to thrive. Once upon a time, Avery had taken everything from him. And Michael had returned the favor. Pain for pain. But it hadn’t been enough. He wanted more. He needed more.

  He wanted Avery Solomon dead.

  It was a way to please the Council and a way to finally close the door on the past. Two birds. One stone.

  Now if only things had gone as planned. He glanced down at his watch, wondering if even now, half a wo
rld away, his enemy lay dying. If there was justice, it would be so.

  In the front of the plane, Gregor sat, deep in conversation with someone on his cell phone. He lifted an arm, gesturing as if the person on the other end could see. He looked angry. Michael felt a wash of dread. A premonition that Avery had yet again managed to find an escape.

  Gregor clicked his phone shut and pushed to his feet, his big body dwarfing the aisle of the jet. His face as always was impassive, but something in his eyes told Michael that his suspicions were correct.

  “That was the team leader on the phone,” Gregor said, without preamble. “Shrum is dead. And his compound is destroyed.”

  “And Solomon?” Michael asked, already certain that he knew the answer.

  “He escaped.”

  Michael slammed his hand down onto an armrest, the resulting pain feeding into his fury. “We sent the equivalent of a small army. How the hell could he have gotten away? He was supposed to have been trapped there. An easy target from both the air and the ground.”

  “You’ve said yourself that the man isn’t an easy mark.”

  “But we set the trap perfectly. And the numbers were on our side. He was on his own without support.”

  “Yes, well that’s just it. He wasn’t on his own.” Gregor sighed, allowing himself just the barest glimmer of a frown. “There was a helicopter. It swooped in out of nowhere. Our planes didn’t even see it until it was almost too late.”

  “And did you ID the pilot?”

  “Hannah Marshall. And the gunners were A-Tac as well. Nash Brennon and Drake Flynn.”

  “His own goddamned personal army. And the girl? Did we secure her? At least tell me we managed to do that much right.”

  “Negative,” Gregor said. “They apparently had her, but Solomon somehow managed to take them all out.”

  “Incompetents.” Michael could feel a vein throbbing in his temple. “I’m surrounded by idiots. Must I do everything myself?”

  “I don’t think it’s wise—” Gregor began, but Michael cut him off with a wave of his hand.

  “I didn’t ask for your opinion. I simply asked you to get the job done. And here we are again with A-Tac coming out on top.”

  “But we did get Shrum,” Gregor said, his tone defensive.

  “A dying man isn’t exactly a difficult target. But at least one problem has been eliminated. He was asking too many questions, and getting too close to the truth. The issue now is how much of it he managed to share with Avery.”

  “But we’ve closed all those doors,” Gregor insisted. “Sahar is dead. And there’s nothing left that links him to us.”

  “Except Isaacs.” He closed his eyes for a moment, wondering how the hell things had gotten so out of hand.

  “But as far as Solomon knows, Isaacs is dead. Hell, as far as we know, he’s dead. Thinking he’s still alive is just conjecture. There’s no evidence to support the idea. And there is data to support him being dead. So maybe, for once, things are exactly as they appear.”

  Michael lifted his gaze to meet Gregor’s. “Things are never as they appear, my friend. And in this game, the minute you start believing they are, you’re dead.”

  “So what do you want to do?”

  “Find Isaacs before Avery does. And then use him to set a trap.”

  “And if we fail again?”

  “We cannot fail again. Everything we’ve worked for—everything I’ve worked for—depends on eliminating Avery. As long as he’s alive, A-Tac will continue to thwart us.”

  “But if we kill him, won’t that mean they’ll come at us even harder?”

  “Not if we can turn it around so that someone else takes the blame.”

  “Isaacs.”

  “You have to admit that it would be advantageous if both of our problems could be eliminated at the same time. Especially if one could be played against the other.”

  “And the girl?”

  “She’ll be our ace in the hole. If all else fails, we’ll play to Avery’s fatal flaw.”

  Gregor frowned. “And that is…”

  Michael paused for a moment, then smiled. “Avery Solomon will sacrifice anything for the people he loves. And if our intel is correct, Ms. Price has just risen to the top of that list.”

  Chapter 15

  Syd walked into the improvised command post Avery’s team had set up at the hotel and hesitated just inside the door. The entire team was gathered, Avery standing in front of a long table talking to his second in command, Nash Brennon. Harrison Blake and Hannah Marshall sat on the far side of the room, two laptops and a printer set up on the table between them. The last two team members, Drake Flynn and Tyler Hanson, were reviewing a stack of documents that Sydney assumed were intel reports on the firefight and the possible culprits. Behind them, the skyline of downtown Okinawa gleamed in the morning sunlight.

  Although Sydney had worked with other operatives on various assignments, she’d spent the bulk of her career working solo. And now, watching the easy camaraderie of the team, she felt a wave of wistfulness that surprised her. Although she’d always valued her freedom—still did if she were being honest—she also envied the fact that Avery’s A-Tac seemed more like a family than an organizational unit. Everyone had each other’s backs in a way she’d never really seen before.

  Their rescue being a case in point.

  Hannah had called in the cavalry the minute she’d realized there might be a problem, despite the fact that the suits in Langley had insisted they not be a part of the operation. And now, Sydney had the feeling that they’d all gone off book, determined to help Avery not only find the culprit behind the decimation at Shrum’s compound, but also the party responsible for Evangeline’s death.

  “All right people, let’s get started. The clock is ticking, and we need answers.” Avery’s deep voice boomed across the room.

  Everyone immediately moved to be seated, Sydney still standing at the back of the room, suddenly unsure of her place here. This was an Avery she’d not really seen—a leader who commanded the room with just a few words. And no matter what lay between them, she wasn’t technically a part of the team. She hesitated, considering flight, but then Tyler smiled and nodded at the chair next to hers.

  “So what’s the scuttle on the attack at Shrum’s?” Avery asked, as Sydney settled into place.

  “As expected, no one has come out to openly take credit for it,” Hannah said, pushing a pair of chartreuse glasses up higher on her nose. “But most everyone is saying it was Wai Yan.”

  “Problem with that,” Harrison continued, his fingers moving across his keyboard even as he spoke, “is that as powerful as Wai Yan’s organization is, they don’t have easy access to the aircraft and firepower involved in the attack.”

  “That kind of thing is always for sale if the price is right.” Drake shrugged, tipping his chair so that the back was leaning against the wall.

  “True,” Hannah agreed. “But I’ve been comparing it to the attack on Emilio Rivon’s compound in Bolivia. And the similarities can’t be ignored.” She hit a key on her laptop, and two pictures flashed up on a monitor above Avery’s head.

  “Particularly the use of air power,” Tyler said, studying the pictures. “Both compounds were strafed with bombs, the intent clearly to destroy everything in the area.”

  “And wipe it clean of any trace that might have been left behind from the initial ground attack.” Nash frowned up at the photos, both showing similar aircraft bombing the facilities below.

  “Well, it certainly makes it easier to blame someone else if there’s nothing concrete to refute the idea. A few well-placed rumors, and everyone buys into the story that it was a rival organization.”

  “But the odds of two different drug cartels on two completely different continents using the exact same methodology to take out a rival seems a bit far-fetched,” Drake said. “No matter how well-structured the manufactured intel.”

  “Possibly, but with nothing else to go on, my thou
ght is that most intelligence agencies would simply write it off. It’s not like Rivon or Shrum were model citizens.”

  “I take it Rivon was connected to another operation of yours?” Sydney asked, the brief she’d remembered suddenly taking on new meaning.

  “Indirectly.” Avery nodded. “We had intel that suggested he might be involved with a man we were chasing. And possibly even with the Consortium in some capacity, but before we could follow through on the information, Rivon was destroyed along with his compound.”

  “And you’re thinking it was the same people who took out Shrum,” she said.

  “Exactly.” Nash nodded. “Only this time, the attack was personal. The idea clearly to not only take out Shrum but to eliminate Avery as well.”

  “Which is totally my fault,” Harrison said, his face reflecting his regret. “My friend and I went over that photo with every conceivable software, and I swear we thought it was the real deal.”

  “Not even you can nail it every time.” Hannah reached over and laid a hand on Harrison’s arm.

  “Yeah, well, my mistake could have cost Avery his life.”

  “But it didn’t.” Avery’s tone was firm and forgiving. And Harrison gave a tight little smile, accepting the sentiment even as he still clearly blamed himself. “And you know as well as I do that there’s nothing gained in beating yourself up over something that’s already done.”

  “Better to concentrate on putting together the puzzle pieces so that they can lead us to the bastards behind the attack,” Drake said. “Then we can run them to ground and kick some ass.”

  “I second that.” Nash smiled, but the sentiment didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So first on the list is the fact that Kamaal Sahar seems to have played a role in both the placement of the hard drive in Afghanistan and the bomb that took out Evangeline’s Humvee in Iraq.”

  “Yes, except that Martin indicated he was dead. Possibly in retaliation for talking to him,” Avery said. “Hannah, have you been able to verify that? Seems like it should have come across our radar.”

  “I haven’t got anything yet.” She shook her head, her short, spiked hair swaying with the motion. “But I do have a DOA in Damascus who was never identified. It fits the location and timeline Shrum gave you. No one claimed the body, and he was buried in a pauper’s grave. We’re having his body exhumed now to check for identity.”