INTO DANGER (Secret Assassins (S.A.S.S.) Book 1)

by Gennita Low

  Steve stopped himself from jerking out of his chair. Somehow he already knew the answer. “She’s gone?”

  Harden tented his hands, tapping his fingers as he studied Steve. “Yes.”

  “How long ago?”

  “About an hour.”

  He sacrificed considerable pride to ask the next question. “Did she leave a message?”

  Harden’s pause was deliberate. Stone-faced, Steve stared back unblinkingly.

  “No. Did you think she would? She has work to do and we were all in her way.” The glint in the older man’s eye matched the sarcasm in his voice. “Women like her work outside the system and think they are above the law. And they don’t last long, McMillan. They are corrupted because they are loners, easily used by and used up in their short careers. Their ultimate downfall lies in the fact they don’t understand the concept of teamwork.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” His commander’s assessment of Marlena left Steve cold and even angrier. Harden portrayed her as a cold-hearted bitch, but Steve didn’t defend her. What could he say? After all, hadn’t she been as calculating and cunning as described?

  “I think you’re in over your head, McMillan. Emotions are easily played with, and you’ve obviously been a victim to Marlena Maxwell’s charms. I suggest you watch your back the next time you let one of her kind close. She might not be as generous—she could feed you to the wolves, leave you to pick up the pieces of your career because you stood in her way.”

  Steve maintained a calm composure. There was a lot more going on here than a dressing-down of a subordinate by a superior. “We’re not exactly talking about me being the victim, are we, sir?” he asked quietly, watching the other man closely.

  If possible, Harden’s expression became even more shuttered. He folded his hands flat on the desk. His mouth was a straight slash on his expressionless face, but Steve noticed the tiny tic on the side of his jaw. “We are,” he answered in a flat tone, “talking about teamwork.”

  “I’m a navy SEAL, sir,” Steve pointed out, wondering what it took to get under that immovable distrust of him his chief barely concealed. He chose his words carefully. “I know what it takes to work within a group, in whichever mode, whether it’s mobilized or undercover infiltration. Covert is covert. And while I admit past experiences play a factor to make one a better operative, I cannot let them color each operation until there’s no room to make adjustments. Just my opinion, sir. Are there any other orders, sir?”

  If his chief was persuaded by Steve’s argument, he didn’t show it. “Not for you. There’s nothing we can do till we hear from the top, McMillan. We all report to our superiors and wait. Maybe the admiral and TIARA top brass will have an idea where to proceed once they look at our findings.”

  “Sir, what do you want to do about du Scheum? He’s obviously a target.”

  Harden impassively answered, “My job is to follow orders.”

  Steve thought so. Cam had hinted as much a few days ago that Harden’s past affected his judgment now, that he’d paid a high price for some mistake. He just hadn’t paid closer attention because his mind was on Marlena. Now it was obvious Harden no longer trusted any action without first going over it through all sorts of channels. Steve understood. It was the best way to cover one’s ass. Harden wasn’t going to pay for mistakes again.

  Meanwhile, they were just going to sit there and knowingly wait for someone innocent to be killed. This just wasn’t done in his combat days. Besides that, no one seemed to care something else equally big was going down, and it had to do with a certain woman he would like to get his hands on. Right now. And somehow all this was connected.

  “I thought you were dead certain that Marlena Maxwell would try to get to du Scheum again? What about that theory? Wouldn’t the cops have questions linking her?” Steve asked.

  “No bullets in her weapons. And they were in the apartment, cold. So that closes our file on that incident. As for the cops, that’s their business, out of our hands.”

  “What about the dead man? Any follow-up that may connect him to her?” Steve insisted, knowing he was stepping out of line again. So much for his teamwork speech. Might as well continue to self-destruct. “I don’t get it. Why aren’t we working to find out what is happening?”

  “Why don’t you? As far as I’m concerned, Marlena Maxwell isn’t our business any longer, but you have your own private orders, don’t you? Wasn’t that your assignment? To come into TIARA and find out what is happening?”

  Steve’s whole being sprung to life. Mental blinders fell off like big heavy icicles. “I was never part of the team,” he said, realization dawning. “You think that—”

  “What I think doesn’t matter,” Harden interrupted. “I know you have an agenda.”

  “What?” Although surprised, Steve didn’t raise his voice. The implication of Harden’s words didn’t fit with the revelations on his mind.

  Harden’s frosty green eyes were direct, challenging. “I don’t think a team member reports back to anyone, even if it’s to the admiral, unless it’s to investigate the team itself. Task Force Two has obviously been under the admiral’s suspicion for a while. If Marlena Maxwell fails at her job, I don’t care to have her death as another black mark against me. Your work here is done, McMillan.”

  Chapter Twelve

  It had been a long day. Marlena parked the convertible in the hotel parking lot and cut off the engine. She sat in the silence, looking out through the windshield with half-seeing eyes. Returning to the apartment to get her things was harder than she’d thought. The sight of the unmade bed had sent a jolt of pain.

  Fortunately for her she was racing against time, so she’d limited herself to packing a few things, along with certain items she had hidden. There was still some cash left in the safe, and she took that. Walking out of the bedroom, she’d glanced at the bed again and almost rushed back when she caught sight of the pearl necklace lying carelessly among the pillows. For a long frozen moment she just stood there, looking at it, fighting the storm inside her. She didn’t think she could bear taking the pearls. She’d taken a step forward, then abruptly turned and strode out of the room.

  Still in the car, Marlena rubbed her heart absentmindedly. Five minutes. She needed these five minutes to think about him, get over him, wallow about him, do whatever necessary to get rid of his memory. Once that was done, she would go into the crowded hotel lobby, take the elevator to the suite she had reserved, and leave all her feelings down here.

  God, but walking away had never been this tough before. She wanted to see him so badly and he was only a phone call away. When Harden had released her, she’d toyed with the idea of leaving Steve a message, but what did she have to say?

  “I want you. Wait for me.” Marlena said it out loud, and laughed cynically.

  “Ta, it was fun. Let’s do it again.” She could just imagine how he would take that line.

  “Sorry your assignment wasn’t that successful. Better luck next time.” Her laughter held a hysterical edge.

  “I’ll miss you.” She sobered. “Will you miss me?”

  “I want you to miss me. As much as I’m missing you.” She cursed, then raked careless fingers through her hair. “God, I’m going nuts.”

  The thing was, she really did miss him. And it hurt that he didn’t even care enough to be around when she was freed. Harden almost said as much.

  “He’s no longer needed for the case,” he’d informed her. She shouldn’t be hurt or surprised. People in Steve’s line of work didn’t stay to say goodbye. She’d met plenty of them in her time.

  Harden hadn’t said much, but from the little explanation he did give, Marlena had gathered they’d taken the real lackey into custody. Stash had taken his place to find out her target’s identity. She hadn’t volunteered any information of her own, and Harden hadn’t pressed for any. She was well aware of her profile as a possible assassin, but she wasn’t in town for that kind of business this time. As a parting
shot, she’d praised Steve for doing a good job. Harden hadn’t acknowledged her sarcasm. She supposed he was off to another assignment. Her lips twisted. If it was to bed another woman, she hoped he rotted in hell in the worst way.

  She climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut. There, all done. See, it was easier than she realized. He was gone forever. She would walk away just as nonchalantly as he had.

  ***

  Steve didn’t know why he felt compelled to drive back to the apartment. There was nothing left there for him. He ought to just go home and pack, get ready to drive down to Virginia to meet with the admiral. His call was brief this afternoon, but it was enough to confirm Harden’s accusations. The admiral had told him he would inform him of the reasons during their meeting.

  He’d always been in awe of the admiral, whose service record was a kind of sacred invocation among all SEALs, and after every grueling mission the old guy would show up to commend them. The act was simple but the effect wasn’t. Every member of his team always felt taller, better focused, and useful.

  Steve had never thought about this much until his short conversation with the admiral earlier that day. A team couldn’t function without a leader who understood what kept a group of men together in a challenging situation. His SEAL commander gave the orders, set up the operation, and kept everything under control, but it was the leader of STAR Force, the admiral himself, who saw the big picture. The fact he shared much of the information with his men had earned him undivided loyalty and the highest respect among his elite covert teams.

  He missed that kind of team spirit. He wanted the assurance from the admiral there was a big picture in all this.

  Steve opened the door to the apartment. He knew the cameras in the hallway were still being monitored, and wondered what they thought of his being there. Not that he particularly cared. Why monitor a place where the most important element was missing? On the other hand, maybe whoever had threatened Marlena those couple of times would call back. He hoped so. He was in the mood to blast away some bad guys. The knowledge they would knock off Marlena for whatever item they believed she had only served to add fuel to his ire. He was off the case, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t track them down himself and find out who they were.

  The bedroom.

  Why the hell was he here? She was obviously gone. He didn’t have to look around to see she’d taken some of her things, yet his eyes were drawn to the bed, still unmade. His nose flared slightly as he detected a trace of her perfume in the air, and he scanned the bedsheets with restless eyes. A milky gleam among the dark sheets beckoned. His jaw locked. She’d left the pearl necklace.

  He went to pick it up, running his fingers along its glossy length. She obviously didn’t think it worth keeping. He didn’t think she would just simply have forgotten. He ought to leave it there, too, and leave everything else that reminded him of her.

  Steve was about to drop the pearl necklace back on the bed when something in his back pocket started vibrating. Frowning, he reached behind him to pull the gadget out. His heart skipped a beat. It was the voice message beeper that Marlena had tossed to him that first night. Could it be...? He didn’t waste any time conjecturing. Pressing down, he read the message.

  Call me. He memorized the number, pocketed the pearls, and tried not to appear in too much of a hurry as he left the apartment. In the safety of his own car, he dialed the phone number.

  “Make a choice. If she’s in danger, would you save her? Are you in or out?”

  It wasn’t Marlena’s sultry voice on the other end, but Tess’s, whom he was now very certain was connected to Marlena through more than mere friendship. He didn’t even stop to think. All he heard was that Marlena in danger.

  “I’m in,” he said. What the heck. He was still in the mood to blow off some steam.

  However, first he would enlist the help of Cam and his gatekeeper friend to find out about the mysterious Tess. Then he would talk to the admiral. If he was right that he had been sent to D.C. to be the eyes and ears for the admiral, he might as well use some muscle and brain to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was the big picture. With his mermaid in it.

  ***

  He drew long and hard from the newly lit cigarette. The smoke filled his lungs, warmed him from head to foot. He thought he could actually feel each individual cell in his body moving eagerly to meet the nicotine, welcoming it like a long-lost friend.

  Exhaling the smoke through his nose, he idly played with the cigarette between his fingers, holding it in various positions. It had been that long since he last had one.

  He had been yearning for one lately, thought he could hold it off till he met Marlena Maxwell, but—he flicked ash into a tray—the celebratory gesture was no longer necessary. After all, she no longer would play that all-important role of being his partner.

  He looked at the different pages of information scattered on his big desk. No one going through the CIA electronic request sector could escape his knowledge. It was fortunate that Steve McMillan had decided to run a check of Marlena Maxwell. He would never have found these items since they weren’t in current computer databases. Yes, he was very fortunate indeed. He could use this to his advantage.

  The moment those documents were signed out to be Xeroxed marked the end of Marlena Maxwell. And to have them end up right before him so easily! He was after hard-to-find information, just as everyone going through the databases was. It was just his genius to follow somebody else’s paper trail instead of working blind. The most requested files were often the least interesting, so he always looked out for unusual requests, and old documents not yet input in the database were certainly unusual. McMillan had more brains than he’d given him credit for. And what a bull’s eye he’d hit! Too bad he couldn’t use the fellow. The reason for his presence in TIARA was so obvious, those in charge must really think their adversary stupid.

  He drew on the cigarette again. Ahhh, the first nicotine buzz was here. He welcomed it like an old lover. Looking at the picture of Marlena, he smiled mirthlessly. He had meant to woo her, slowly show her the glory of a different kind of power—the kind she and he would share together. When they met, he’d planned to offer her more than her life as some hireling for the highest price. He had thought her perfect at his side, a beautiful woman who understood the meaning of power and happiness. Instead she turned out to be nothing, nothing at all.

  So they were to meet finally, but not as he had intended. The stage was no longer friendly. He might still seduce her; after all, she didn’t know that she had been found out. It would be amusing to see how far she would go to get her clever little hands on what he had.

  Abruptly he squashed the cigarette in the crystal ashtray. Picking it up, he heaved it violently at the wall across the desk. It smashed into a picture frame, breaking the glass into hundreds of shards. Cigarette ash smeared an ugly gray line down the white wall.

  Stupid fucking bitch! He would see to it that she paid for this! He had worked too long to be denied this important sale. He couldn’t just broadcast what he had discovered, or the buyers would be wary of any more go-betweens, thinking he was setting a trap. He couldn’t afford to lose their confidence right now. No, he wouldn’t allow Marlena Maxwell to destroy any more of his plans.

  Maybe he would use her first. Then he would kill her. After all, what difference would it make? The real Marlena Maxwell was probably dead already.

  He squinted his eyes thoughtfully. He could allow her to continue with her charade, as long as he kept her under control. He had to admit he was curious about her.

  A slow smile formed. He didn’t need any Marlena by his side.

  He inhaled, then calmly reached for the packet of cigarettes on the desk. And oh yes, he would use her to get rid of that SEAL, too. He laughed. That would be killing two love-birds with one bullet.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Steve rubbed his jaw, playing with the couple days’ growth of beard as he tried to pick one of a dozen qu
estions jumping around in his mind right at that moment. He was in a crowded café near Connecticut Avenue and obviously picked by the lady across the table for its tourist clientele. He wouldn’t have known it was Tess if she hadn’t told him the exact location of a booth in the corner. Sitting down, with shopping bags and D.C. and museum maps on the seat and table, she was busy perusing the menu when he stepped inside the cubicle and sat down. He had hesitated, but gone with instinct anyway.

  It wasn’t because he didn’t think he could handle another surprise, but this one was...unexpected, to say the least. Tess was nowhere to be seen. Well, it was Tess, but she sure didn’t look like the Tess he’d met until she glanced up and greeted him in her sultry voice.

  He sat down and picked up the menu, even though he was too busy taking in her appearance to read. Her hair was black and spiky short, accentuating her cheekbones. Her eyes were gray when they glanced up at him, not the liquid honey-gold he remembered. She’d done something with her face because her nose looked different somehow, but the smile she gave him was a familiar curve.

  “Hello, Steve,” she said, in Tess’s voice.

  “Who the hell are you?” he demanded in a soft growl, for her ears alone. He added, “Who the hell are the two of you?”

  Tess handed him a small buttonlike pin with an insignia. “We’re GEM. You should be familiar with contract agents.”

  He sat there waiting for her to continue, but she just sat there, reading the menu.

  “Is that all?” he asked, reading the insignia with quick interest. “GEM. Contract agents. I’m supposed to take your word and go on from there?”

  She closed her menu. “Yes.”

  “Not likely.”

  “We don’t have much time. I only called you because I can’t do this myself and you’re the only person that might be able to save Marlena.”