The Grandmaster’s Legacy: Masters of Love and War (A Taylor Lee HOT Historical Romantic Suspense Collection) (The Grandmaster's Legacy)

by Taylor Lee

  When they’d gone over the evening’s assignment, assessing and reassessing the potential dangers, and making the changes that Brady recommended, the team prepared to disband. Most of them would be working throughout the day putting in the safeguards to ensure that the two stars of the evening, Tiffany and Brady, would be as safe as a crack team of U. S. Army operatives could make them. But even with all the preparations, everyone agreed with Col. Marion’s assessment. Facing the group as they prepared to leave, he was solemn.

  “You are aware we are involved in a dangerous mission. If it wasn’t for all of you and the two people who will be in the thick of it, Col. Schaefer and Capt. Anderson, I would refuse to lead an operation potentially this dangerous to its members. But we have the opportunity tonight to break the back of one of the most violent—and successful—illegal arms dealers operating in the world today. While the Colonel and the Captain are in the most immediate danger, their success depends on you, the backup team. Don’t let them down, men. Be as courageous and as accomplished as you have been trained to be. Let’s show these vermin what happens when they poke a stick in the eye of the greatest fighting force the world has known.”

  Following this rousing reminder of what they were up against, Tiffany moved toward the door, preparing to flee to the gym, aching to pull on a pair of gloves and pound the hell out of a leather bag.

  But as she turned, she ran into a hard wall of a man who had no intention of letting her pass by.

  His voice had a teasing lilt that was belied by the serious glint in his eyes.

  “Uh uh, darlin’. You think I’m gonna let you go after three years of missing this hot little package? Not a chance, sugar. So park that glare in your fanny pack along with your Walther PPK and say good bye to your team. You and I are going to spend the day getting reacquainted before we take on the world’s evil men.”

  Tiffany struggled against him surprised at her desire to bury herself in his strong arms and forever close the door on their painful past. Instead she resorted to sarcasm as she usually did when threatened with an unintended emotion.

  “No can do, soldier. I have a full day of work preparing for tonight. Besides, given the abundance of eager women in this city and knowing your prodigious talents, you’d find an afternoon with me confining and disappointing.”

  Brady stiffened and frowned at her, but if anything tightened his hold on her. His voice betrayed his surprise at her rebuff. To avoid being heard by the other men, who were diligently pretending to ignore their teammate captured in the arms of the dashing consultant, he spoke in a low tone.

  “Not quite sure where that is coming from Tiffany, but I’ll chalk it up to your missing me. Something that we are going to rectify now, darlin’. So be a good girl and don’t make a scene.”

  Grasping Tiffany’s arm, Brady tugged her toward the door. Nodding to the men who stepped back to let them pass, he said in a cheerful voice, “It was a pleasure meeting you all. I’m honored to be part of such an illustrious team. See you tonight, gentlemen.”

  Not letting go of Tiffany’s arm, he turned to Col. Marion and addressed him as the long term friend that he was.

  “Jake sends his regards, Marty. Thanks for bringing us in on this venture. It’s always a pleasure to work with the best.”

  The Colonel scoffed. “Hell, Brady, I’d hire you for every op I run, but those nosy fuckers in Congress are looking harder and harder at our discretionary budgets. Not easy to hide your fees, man.”

  Brady grinned. “Remind them when we’re successful tonight that we saved them millions of dollars and years of egg on their faces trying to explain how the North Koreans armed themselves with the latest AK 47’s and Kimber 380’s. Now if you’ll excuse me, Captain Anderson and I have some catching up to do.”

  Chapter 4

  “Don’t want to sound like an ugly American, sugar, but do you know anyplace besides the mess hall where I can get scrambled eggs, sausage and maybe a rasher of bacon without kimchee? I’m a growing boy and always thought I was tough, but damn, no wonder these Korean folks never grow higher than five and a half feet. Their mamas put hot peppers in their baby food. Makes a body unwilling to take that much abuse. They just stop growing.”

  Tiffany laughed. “That’s an interesting theory, Brady. A horseshit one, but interesting nonetheless.”

  Brady winked at her. “Damn, I love a woman with a dirty mouth.”

  Tiffany felt heat rush to her face. Blame her Irish mother. Her mother had stayed with her father only long enough to produce a child that not only inherited her wild hair but also her fair skin with a dusting of freckles and a propensity to blush. Over time, Tiffany stopped blaming her mother for abandoning her and her father. Being shuttled from one unsuspecting relative to another while her father pursued his heroic exploits making the world safe for democracy, she understood why a woman might be unwilling to stick around. Especially when each of those distant missions involved what Tiffany had come to call “the flavor of the month.” One thing about her father was that he was as far from a sexual racist as one could be. As long as the woman was willing and had the required bodily orifices, she was fair game. Nope, as much as she loved her father, she had long ago forgiven her mother for beating a hasty retreat. More power to her.

  “Hey, Tiff, what’s that frown about?”

  Tiffany startled, not aware that she’d betrayed her emotions once again. Damn, what was it about Brady that weakened her hardened reserves.

  She tried to make light of her confused emotions.

  “Sorry, Brady. Think the holiday is getting to me. But in answer to your question, there is a little hole in the wall about a mile from here where they serve authentic Korean food for aficionados like me and American food for wimps like you.”

  Brady laughed so heartily that strangers turned with a smile to see the source of the infectious sound.

  “You’re on, firecracker. You up for walking? I didn’t make it to the gym this morning and these damn Korean beds aren’t made for men who are over six feet tall.”

  “Can I surmise that you don’t much like Korea, Brady?”

  Brady gave an uncustomary sigh and said in a serious tone, “I don’t know, hotshot, like you, I may be reacting to one more Christmas in a foreign country. And hell who would have thought, Christmas in Korea!”

  Tiffany laughed—a genuine laugh that felt good and reminded her how long it had been since she’d felt like smiling, much less laughing.

  “I know. Isn’t it amazing? At least they have snow but it all seems incongruous somehow. I think I liked Christmas in Afghanistan better. At least they openly hated both us and our religion. No way you’d have to listen to the equivalent of Barry Manilow in a Karaoke bar.”

  Brady grabbed her and whirled her toward him, his face lighting up with a grateful smile.

  “That’s it, darlin’! That’s what’s driving me crazy. I was in a bar last night and they were playing Christmas music ad nauseum. It took everything I had to keep from pulling out my Sig and take out the sound system.”

  Tiffany smiled and suppressed the desire to confess that she’d been there too. His excitement at seeing her and gratitude that she was part of the mission made her unwillingness to acknowledge him last night seem small and childish. But she didn’t dare confess her foolishness. She felt compromised enough with him as it was.

  After Brady had polished off enough food to feed a squadron of hungry men, he leaned back in the small wooden chair that fit her but contained little more than half of his muscular body. She grinned at him.

  “You really do seem a lot bigger than I remember.”

  When his eyes widened then twinkled at the possible double meaning, she felt her cheeks flame yet again.

  His voice dropped to a husky level.

  “Back atcha, sugar. There’s a lot of things about you that I’d forgotten. And, darlin’ just so you know, I’m kicking myself for that omission.”

  Tiffany looked down, remembering the las
t time they were together.

  Brady was quiet for what felt like several minutes, then reached for her hand and held it tighter when she tried to pull away.

  “I still miss him too, Tiff. He was a gentle giant. And he made the rest of us better people by being our friend.”

  Tiffany was surprised to feel tears burning the backs of her eyelids. She thought she’d cried her last tears for Anthony years ago.

  Not letting go of her hand, Brady continued.

  “I know you are aware that Jake Gardner is head over heels in love with Anthony’s sister, Lexie. It’s helped us both to know her. She is like a spitfire version of Anthony. She and Jake will be marrying soon and damn, I have this feeling that their first child will be a little guy, who will make us all remember the big guy who was such an important part of our lives.”

  Tiffany hesitated. “I… I only knew him for a couple of months. I know this is going to sound small, unworthy, given your long term friendship. But more than anything, Anthony was the first and only guy that I thought I could trust not to hurt me.”

  Tiffany was shocked at the words that came out of her mouth, and even more surprised when she added, “And then he had to go and get murdered.”

  She gasped and looked up expecting to see condemnation in Brady’s eyes. To her surprise, they gleamed with understanding. The crease between his brows deepened and he nodded.

  “Every one of us has spent some hard time being furious with him for as you put it ‘going and getting himself murdered.’ According to the shrinks I’ve talked to Tiffany that is a common reaction to the violent death of someone you love. It’s anger at him, at yourself for not being able to prevent it, and finally at a situation that is and was out of your control.”

  Tiffany could only stare at him, wondering who on earth this guy was who had taken over Brady’s body. Charming? Check. So good-looking he made her swoon, check. But, sensitive? Thoughtful? Deep? Hmm, somehow she’d missed those traits three years ago. But before she fell for the “new Brady” she reminded herself of the crowd of women who’d followed him out of the bar last night and the sound of his unabashed laughter as he pulled them up to close to him.

  She tugged her hand loose.

  “Thank you, Brady. Maybe I should have talked to a shrink after it happened. But I didn’t. I appreciate what you said and now with the distance of time, I can see where you are right.”

  They walked back to the base in silence. Tiffany needed to get her car and get home to prepare for the evening. As they turned the corner on the snowy street lit with multicolored holiday lights, they heard Elvis serenading the hordes of shoppers with the sultry tones of Blue Christmas.

  Brady hooted and Tiffany followed suit.

  “That does it! The final outrage! Christmas in Korea is one thing, but, Elvis? That’s goddamn sacrilegious!”

  Tiffany laughed until her stomach hurt.

  When she got to her car, she gave an unconscious sigh.

  “Wow, hotshot, what’s that sigh for?”

  Tiffany hesitated then shrugged.

  “I was just thinking about the costume I’ll be wearing tonight. Since I’ve been undercover, I’ve spent the last eight out of ten Christmases dressed as a whore.”

  Brady frowned and murmured, “Hmm, that’s nothing. I can’t remember a Christmas I haven’t spent with whores.” At her shocked gasp, he reached over and put his thumb under her chin forcing her to look up at him.

  “Tell me, sugar? Ever spent Christmas with one of the world’s all time playboys?”

  She felt that damnable heat flood her cheeks again. That and the warmth between her legs made her almost consider accepting his outrageous proposal. Fortunately years of disappointments brought her back to reality.

  She gave him a haughty grin and responded with a nonchalance she was far from feeling.

  “Sorry, soldier. It’s bad enough that the role I play is that of a whore. But that doesn’t mean I am one.”

  Brady stepped back, visibly shocked.

  “Jesus, Tiffany.”

  He stopped in mid-sentence. His expression hardened. His jaw was rigid and his eyes flashed with what looked like a mix of anger and hurt.

  “You misunderstood what I said, Tiffany. I was referring to my role tonight, not to me. But, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that you misunderstood. My apologies.”

  He gave her a curt nod.

  “See you tonight, sugar. Break a leg.”

  She watched him stride away, his broad shoulders hunched inside the leather bomber jacket. She knew she’d hurt him. She felt like scum. But dammit, she knew who he was. Yes, he’d surprised her today, but how many times had she given the charmers the benefit of the doubt? The handsome guys like her father, like Will, and most certainly the drop-dead gorgeous Brady. They were so good with their words, their promises. How else could they attract the hordes of women who hovered around them, begging to be the lucky one they picked?

  Chapter 5

  Brady tugged at the sleeves of his jacket, touching the middle link on his heavy gold chain bracelet, thereby activating the hidden recording system. One of the things he brought to the op was high level communication equipment that wasn’t yet available to the active military. He and Jake had been working with a former member of what was essentially the Korean CIA. When Peter Lee learned that Brady would be infiltrating the Jopok, he’d given him devices that even the technology savvy Jopok mafia couldn’t detect. Earlier that morning, Brady had put the upgraded devices in Tiffany’s earrings and changed over the listening equipment in the corresponding devices of the rest of the team members. Col. Marion just shook his head.

  “How come you guys are able to get your hands on equipment we straight military guys would give our left nut for?”

  Brady had shrugged, and flashed his trademark grin.

  “That’s because we are willing to give our left nut for it—or at least an equivalent amount of money. In this case we are connected to a guy who is a double or more likely a triple Korean agent. No one knows how to break through a system like the guy who created it. He’s letting us ‘borrow’ his personal stuff for this mission. The only government that wants to keep Kriss 30’s and Kimbers out of North Korea more than we do is South Korea. You should think about having a broader group of friends, Marty. Never know when they’ll come in handy. Kind of a new take on ‘friends with benefits’ I always say.”

  ~~~

  Brady stood in the entrance to the casino waiting for his contact to announce himself. He only knew the code word and assumed that the intermediary would be Korean. Positioned around the cavernous room filled with the sounds of clanging one-armed bandits and the shouts of lucky winners and the groans of losers, he saw at least five of Marty’s men. He knew there were a dozen more men inside, many disguised as service workers. And more than likely a squadron or more creating a perimeter around the fifteen story building.

  “Good evening, Mr. Corrigan. I am Soo Yun which means Lotus Blossom in Korean.”

  Brady managed to hide his surprise. The Korean woman could have been a runway model. She was breathtakingly beautiful. But her face was frozen in a half smile that didn’t reach her cold eyes.

  He bowed slightly and murmured his acknowledgement of the code, “I’m pleased to meet you, Lotus Blossom.”

  A slight smile stole across her porcelain face. Brady wondered if she ever smiled wholeheartedly or laughed as Tiffany had today. He doubted it. This much plastic surgery didn’t allow for human emotions to cloud the surgeon’s work.

  Soo Yun motioned to him to follow her. It was a pleasure. Watching her ass sway from side to side, he wondered if she screamed when she came. Again, he doubted it. This was one tight-assed woman, both literally and figuratively. She walked to the elevator and nodded surreptitiously to the guys he’d made while waiting by the entrance. He’d expected a higher level of security, more than the bored-looking goons at the elevator. But Tiffany had warned that Shin Lee himself was protected by a f
irst class group of Kkangpae, the Korean fighters known throughout the world for their kill or be killed approach to fighting.

  The heavily paneled elevator spoke to the level of security he could expect when they hit the top floor. Tiffany had warned him that Shin Lee’s private quarters were guarded like Fort Knox. The plan for the night was straightforward. Brady had transferred the supposedly illegal weapons to a nondescript warehouse outside of Seoul. His team was standing guard, facing off with Shin Lee’s men. When the onsite leaders signaled compliance, Shin Lee was to transfer the agreed upon sale price to Brady’s account. When the exchange had been visually and audibly documented, Shin Lee would be out $15 million and the weapons would be returned to the American armory where they belonged. On the surface, it was a simple exchange. The hard work had been done by Tiffany who’d managed to make the connection with Shin Lee and planted the seed that a certain Mathew Corrigan, heir to one of the remaining fortunes of former English nobility, was in a position to sell the illegally obtained weapons that Shin Lee was eager to buy.

  The elevator doors opened directly into the penthouse apartment. Luxurious didn’t begin to describe the spacious room. Beautifully appointed teak furniture, elegant hand-woven rugs and original artwork spoke to the exquisite taste of the man who owned it. Sitting across the room in a large upholstered armchair was an impressive-looking Asian man that from the deference of those surrounding him confirmed that he was Shin Lee.

  While he should have been paying attention to the Korean man, Brady couldn’t keep his eyes off the gorgeous woman standing at his side. He’d seen Tiffany transform herself in their former mission, but even so he was stunned by her appearance. Gone was the ill-fitting camouflage pants and jacket, the Captain’s cap that she’d shoved on her head when they walked to the restaurant, and the braids that contained her messy curls.