Kiss the Enemy (Slye Temp)

by Dianna Love

  She ordered a martini.

  If Dragan hadn’t been contacted yet, she had time to get the tracking device in place.

  But he was still smothered in women.

  Margaux lifted the martini she had no intention of drinking and let her gaze travel to the back of the bar where layers of mirror had been cut in an abstract pattern.

  She had a clear image of Dragan.

  A couple inches under six feet, he had brown hair cut I’m-a-hot-guy short, but the muscles in his neck hinted at a solid body beneath the black Louis Vuitton suit jacket. The identifying scar slashed from his left ear to his collarbone just as Snake Eyes had said. Dragan had an attractive, but otherwise uninteresting face. much like all the others shopping for an expensive party girl for the night.

  On the other hand, Dragan’s bodyguard was anything but uninteresting.

  He stood off to her right, with Secret-Service-looking eyewear and a coal-black designer suit that had to be custom-tailored to fit shoulders as wide as his.

  That was one big man.

  Just her flavor, if she had any interest in a taste.

  Surprisingly, he still managed to blend into the shadows, motionless as a tiger waiting for his dinner to stroll by. Power rolled off him in silent waves. She couldn’t tell much about his face with that thick, but neat, black beard and his eyes hidden.

  Handsome was too simple a word to describe him, too civilized. Like admiring a wolf for its lush coat or a shark for its grace in the water, a woman would find this man attractive in a deadly way.

  A woman who enjoyed playing with fire or dancing with lightning.

  A woman who was a fool.

  Good thing he was not the one she needed to engage in pre-mating rituals. Nothing about that man invited sexual banter, which she found even more appealing. No, he was not one to play with and that presented a problem.

  Right now she had to get to Dragan and the bodyguard was her only route.

  The bartender drew her attention when he paused near her, but turned away. His fingers went to the wired receiver in his ear. He spoke softly into the mic attached to his collar. “Give me a minute to check the masks for tonight so I can identify Violet. Tell Mr. Santiago I’ll send her up as soon as I locate her.”

  Shit.

  Margaux raised her martini and moved away from the bar toward the dark alcove where the bodyguard stood. When she reached him, she waited for the bodyguard to acknowledge her, but he didn’t drop his chin or angle his head. Nothing to indicate what was going on behind those dark glasses.

  She felt the seconds screaming in her ear with each pulse of her heart. This was it. She forced calm and confidence into her voice. “Tell Mr. D that Violet is interested in speaking to him alone. He has one minute or I’ll move on.”

  Dragan’s bodyguard just stood there.

  Who did he think he was? The Queen’s guard at Buckingham Palace? Now what?

  She leaned in and whispered, “If you think I’m offering twice, you’re wrong. I’m here for one reason and talking to you isn’t it. You’re wasting seconds that I don’t think Mr. D will be pleased about if he misses this one-time opportunity.”

  Her gaze traveled to a mirrored wall that picked up the bartender’s profile as he leaned down to study a laptop computer screen. He lifted his head to look around. His gaze stalled when he turned her way.

  She was the one running out of seconds and ideas.

  CHAPTER 6

  The best Nick could figure, Margaux must have mentally snapped to openly defy Sabrina. He’d have thought she had more natural survival instinct.

  Nick let his gaze drift over to Tanner, his partner in this fiasco, who had his arm propped on the door of the rental they’d picked up at San Francisco airport.

  “We just missed her and she was tough to recognize,” Tanner said to the cell phone he had on speaker.

  Nick smiled. He’d been the one to point Margaux out to Tanner, who hadn’t recognized her in a wig and a fourteen-carat dress that stopped just short of showing off her goods. Once Tanner sucked his tongue back into his head, he’d called Sabrina to report in.

  Sabrina muttered a curse. “Was Margaux alone?”

  “For now.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  He looked at his phone like the thing might jump up and bite his head off any minute, which was possible with Sabrina on the other end. He gave Nick a look that suggested it was his turn to take some shit.

  Nick sighed. “Margaux was decked out in a gold designer dress that just covered her ass and fuck-me heels to match, long blond wig, and a shawl that stopped at her waist. She walked into the Trigon Millenia Hotel like a woman ready to do business.”

  “Margaux would rather have her spleen taken out without anesthesia than wear a dress, much less heels. She’s going after somebody.” Sabrina had been up for two days straight and it was starting to come through in her voice. “Nothing on the street here about any significant action going down in San Fran tonight. Haven’t heard back from our people on the west coast. You got any idea what might have set her off, Nick?”

  “Not really, but I’m not surprised. She just wants to nail the bastard.”

  “Don’t even try to justify her actions to me. Dingo, Josh, Tanner and I want to nail the CIA spook who sold us out in the UK two years ago, too, but I won’t tolerate those three going rogue any more than you, Ryder, or anyone else.”

  “What are you going to do about Margaux when we catch her?” If Nick could find out what Margaux faced, maybe he could talk her off the ledge if the opportunity arose. He didn’t recommend what Margaux was doing, but he knew how demons drove a person and probably understood her better than the rest of the team did.

  His own demons rode his shoulders every day.

  “Tell you what, Nick. Get your hands on her and I’ll answer that.”

  Nick got the “don’t push me right now message” in Sabrina’s reply. I tried, Margaux.

  Sabrina added, “Do not let her walk past you two again.”

  Tanner’s face warped with a scowl. “If the tail you put on her at the airport here hadn’t lost her, we’d have her in hand by now.”

  A pause on the other end must have been Sabrina counting to hold her temper. Her voice gained a sharper edge. “If they were half as good as White Hawk or any of you that wouldn’t have happened, but I was stuck with using a contractor. Margaux must have found out something right after I left the apartment, because given more time to plan, I doubt even White Hawk could have tailed her as far as she did.”

  Nick couldn’t argue with that.

  Margaux probably thought she’d made it out of Atlanta without anyone finding out, but Sabrina had instructed the surveillance teams to sit tight if they realized Margaux was leaving her apartment. White Hawk had been positioned nearby with eyes on every inch of the apartment exterior. When Margaux was spotted exiting via the roof, her route was relayed to White Hawk who picked her up on the ground.

  Then Margaux stopped by a high-security storage facility for ten minutes on her way to the airport. Nick knew that’s where she’d kept her go-bag with a new identity and cash. When the tail in San Francisco lost her, Sabrina tapped resources few people had at their fingertips and got a lead a half hour ago. About five minutes too late, or Nick could have intercepted Margaux before she entered that hotel.

  Sabrina said, “Hold on. Josh is telling me something.” Their muffled voices came through then she was back on the line. “We have intel from the coast. That hotel is owned by three men who run a secret club in the basement.”

  “Can’t be very secret if some snitch knew about it,” Tanner interjected.

  Josh’s voice came through next. “Wasn’t a snitch, but people I’ve rubbed elbows with when I’ve had a job in that area. Once I found out who owned the hotel, I made a couple of calls to men I wouldn’t turn my back on, but if anyone knew about high-roller action, they would. This private nightclub is invitation only.”

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nbsp; Nick lifted an eyebrow at that. He’d picked up a little here and there about some of the team members. As a kid, Josh had run the streets of New York with Sabrina and Dingo, but a wealthy couple had adopted him. Insanely wealthy.

  On occasion, Sabrina sent Josh to use his GQ looks and social status to ferret information from those with blue blood or celebrity ranking.

  Nick asked Josh, “Did you get an invitation for tonight?”

  “No. The place is called the Trophy Room. Very tight security. They schedule the women every day and change security cards just as often. Clients are booked in advance no closer than forty-eight hours out. Getting inside that club tonight isn’t going to happen.”

  Tanner tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “So we wait for her to come out?”

  Nick shook his head. “Someone has to at least try to get in.”

  Josh argued, “You aren’t going to make it into the Trophy Room. There’s only two ways in and out. Heavily guarded. We make a wrong move and it could get her killed. Until someone comes up with more than we have right now, waiting is the safest thing to do for Margaux.”

  For now. Nick had never known Margaux’s background. She was a solid agent, but tight-lipped when it came to talking about anything but the present and the future. He had a feeling that whatever she hid was going to be her downfall when they grabbed her.

  Tanner sat up, stretching his neck. “At least we found Margaux. That was more than any of us would have thought possible with her skills. So it’s not that bad.”

  Yet, Nick added silently.

  Sabrina was back on the phone. “The DEA agent is awake and screaming for her head. Margaux’s in a heavily guarded location with no backup where the women are party toys for men with no financial boundaries, and she’s chasing a man known for brokering the deadliest terrorist attacks in years. Think the Banker is going to just sit back and let her walk up to him? How much more fucked up does this have to get before it’s bad, Tanner?”

  The cowboy blew out a breath, taking his time to answer and pouring on his Texas charm when he did. “Come on, Sabrina. I’m just sayin’ to give the woman some credit. This could be all about gaining intel. She might have walked into that hotel dressed like a high-dollar call girl, but the Duke isn’t going to let any man get the upper hand on her.”

  Josh interrupted. “Sabrina’s got a call coming in that might be what we’ve been waiting on.”

  “Which is?” Nick asked.

  “Intel on whether the Banker is in this country.”

  “Local intel?”

  “No.” Josh didn’t elaborate, but Nick could guess. Sabrina had friends in every government agency and she refused to take anything that even hinted of being connected to the CIA, but … she had a friend who had helped with intel the last time the Banker was involved.

  While Sabrina took her call, Josh went over all the resources Nick and Tanner had at their disposal then cut it short, saying, “Dingo and Ryder will be there soon. Hold on, Sabrina’s coming back on the phone.”

  “I don’t want to believe it, but the Banker is here. Actually there. He’s supposed to be meeting a merc in San Francisco.”

  Tanner tensed. “Here, like at this hotel?”

  “No confirmation that they’ll meet there, only that a merc has been looking for the Banker and he’s supposed to get meet instructions in the Trophy Room. At the price of admission, it’s hard to imagine he’d be going there for any other reason unless he likes to pay high five figures to spend the night with a woman he’s never met.”

  Tanner whistled. “Da-yam. Who pays that kind of jack? Of course, there’s no doubt the women are all gorgeous. Hell, if they held a Miss Hot contest, the Duke would take first place tonight.”

  “Are you through having your fantasy break?” Sabrina snapped. “Still think she’s only going for information?”

  Nick answered her. “No. Margaux would never have walked away for anything less than getting her hands on the Banker.” The way Sabrina had explained it, Margaux knew the minute she stepped outside her apartment she would be marked as rogue. He gave another shot at boosting Margaux’s side of this. “But I’m betting Margaux plans to contact you as soon as she has a definitive location on the Banker.”

  “Let’s hope so.” Sabrina didn’t say anything for a moment. “I want her yanked as soon as everyone is in place.”

  “I should go inside the hotel and do recon,” Nick interjected, causing everyone to quiet. He found it amusing that they never knew when to expect him to say something, or had any idea what he might say.

  “Wait for your backup no matter what happens,” Sabrina said, canceling his suggestion. “I don’t want to lose any of you tonight. If I didn’t have this damn threat at The Governor’s Mansion, Josh and I would be there, too.”

  Tanner took over the conversation. “We can handle this, Sabrina, but delaying is dangerous. Margaux’s been inside there for a half hour already. If she was after information only, she’d have had an exit strategy and should have come out by now.”

  “I know, but nothing happens until Dingo and Ryder arrive. That’s final.”

  “If she hands you the Banker, are you going to cut her some slack?” Nick wouldn’t go so far as to say he understood the crazy woman entirely, but they were hacked out of the same shitty cloth. They’d shared a few beers over rounds of pool. He never pried into her life and she showed him the same consideration. As fucked up as he was, he had a feeling she might just be worse.

  For that reason alone, he felt the strange need to take her side in this and offer help she wouldn’t accept if she were standing here.

  He liked that about her, which was totally screwed and why they got along.

  A stifling silence hung inside the car until Sabrina said, “Let me make myself clear, Nick. I don’t give two shits about the Banker right now. One of my people has gone rogue and has her ass hung out in the wind. I want her brought in. Alive. What I do with her at that point is not your business. I put you in charge because you’ve partnered with her so you should be able to get close to her. Do you have a problem bringing her in?”

  “Nope.”

  “Then find a way inside there as soon as soon as everyone’s ready and don’t let anyone die.”

  You don’t ask for much. Nick just answered, “Got it.”

  Tanner thumbed the phone off and tossed it on the dash. He cracked his neck that had to feel as stiff as Nick’s in spite of their having rented a Yukon. Ops with Tanner required a big vehicle. Tanner had three inches of height and another twenty pounds of muscle over Nick who came in at six feet tall and could box heavyweight.

  Had boxed heavyweight, but that was back when he’d fought according to the rules, and cared about rules. Nick played out every possibility in his mind as he wiggled the earpiece of his comm set into his ear. “One of us has to stay here and call when Dingo arrives.”

  Tanner rocked his head to one side and gave Nick a look that questioned his ability to discern reality from fantasy. “So now you’re going to defy Sabrina? You either got some titanium balls or you’re just as suicidal as the Duke.”

  Nick would tell Tanner which one it was if he knew himself. “I’m following orders. Sabrina said we couldn’t go into the hotel yet. Way I see it, if we stay out here we have only two possibilities for grabbing Margaux. She either walks out of the hotel under her own power and we grab her then, which I seriously doubt will happen, or we get lucky monitoring the cars leaving the private garage, and if we spot her, we go after her then.”

  Probability for either option had suck-ass odds.

  The most likely scenario would end with her cold body locked in a trunk and driven out for disposal.

  “So you’re saying you want one of us to get inside the garage,” Tanner surmised.

  “Exactly. That way, the minute Dingo gets here, we can move in faster.”

  “I’ll go. You’re supposed to be running this op so you stay here and play boss.”

 
; Nick would rather be the one going into the garage, but Tanner was right. Someone had to be out here to talk to Sabrina and take the rap if this op went south. He checked his watch.

  Dingo should be here in another eight minutes, but this wouldn’t end well.

  Either way, Margaux was fucked.

  If she came out with no intel, she’d made the critical error of crossing Sabrina.

  If Margaux bagged the Banker, Sabrina would pull her from the team for going after a vendetta.

  Taking Margaux in was going to suck, but better him than the others even if he did end up looking like he’d betrayed her. Margaux had once told Nick that she could never have anything more than what she had with Slye Temp. She would do whatever it took to stay on the team.

  That’s why he’d known she wouldn’t stay put if she had a chance to prove herself and hand over the Banker. He knew how she thought, which was why he was the one who’d actually seen her when she escaped the apartment.

  He’d considered letting her go, but he doubted she’d survive going up against the Banker alone.

  In hindsight, he might end up wishing he’d let her try.

  CHAPTER 7

  Logan turned his head just enough to let this Violet know he was listening. She’d said, “I’m here for one reason.”

  He was going with his gut on this one and his gut was screaming that she was an operative by the way she moved and her choice of words. She hadn’t given him the sentence he’d been informed the masked women would use for requesting a meeting with Dragan.

  If she was one of the working girls, she’d have said, “Please inquire if Mr. D would consider sharing a drink with me. My treat.”

  Also, if Violet was one of the hookers, she wouldn’t waste time on Dragan, who was covered up in women, when there were two available prospects eating her up with their eyes.

  Yeah, she might be qualified to be a hooker, with a body that would set sheets on fire and a sexy mouth that quirked up on one side when she talked and … wait a minute. He got a niggle of something at the back of his mind, but couldn’t put his finger on it. That mouth reminded him of someone.