Say No More

by Liliana Hart

  “And then I met you.” Dante smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You were unexpected. I’d never met a woman like you—intelligent and driven and stubborn, topped off with a smart mouth and a face that I couldn’t get out of my head. I had no use for a relationship in my life. Women were there for pleasure only. But you stimulated more than my body.

  “That first night we slept together, I had every intention of sneaking out of your apartment in the middle of the night and cutting the ties between us. I’ve never entertained the same woman more than a time or two. Except for you. I kept coming back for more. And the risk kept getting higher.”

  “And that drove you even more to stay with me,” Liv said, finishing for him. She understood him, though she wished she didn’t. Anyone in their line of work—the kind of work that put them right in the thick of danger—had those tendencies to seek out even higher-risk situations.

  “You drove me to stay with you,” he said. “I wanted to be with you. And I’ve never wanted to be with anyone like that. I lied to everyone, but I also lied to myself. I told myself that I could keep juggling everything. That if I was smart enough, I could have everything I wanted.

  “That night at Carmaux’s party, I had it planned to the last detail. It was the riskiest job I’d ever undertaken, and that’s saying something, as I’ve accomplished some incredible feats.”

  “You’re proud of yourself,” Liv said, shaking her head. “Even now, with everything going on and the shitstorm you’ve gotten yourself into.”

  “Of course I’m proud of my accomplishments. I’m extremely skilled at the things I do. But taking a painting in front of a crowd of hundreds of people was something I’d never done before. And if my biggest obstacle—you—was in the same room at the same time, well, that upped the ante considerably.”

  “I’m such an idiot,” she said. “I can see it now. But I was too blinded by lo—by lust to see anything before.”

  “You never would’ve seen anything I didn’t want you to see,” Dante told her. “Just as you would never have seen me on the roof if I hadn’t wanted you to catch me. I would’ve parachuted off the cliffs as planned and dropped the painting in a secure location I’d scouted, then circled back in through all the chaos to meet up with you, having let Locke just slip through my fingers. But my plans didn’t go as expected that night.

  “There was more than one way to get into that secret room where we met. There was also another entrance through Carmaux’s private office, so that’s the way that I took. She knew I’d go that way, of course.”

  “Who knew?” she asked.

  “The woman who’s now my boss,” he answered. “She came out of nowhere. And she knew everything. She knew about MI6 and Simon Locke. She knew about you. All of my secrets—I have yet to discover how she found out some of the things she knows. Though now that I’m working for her, I understand that she has access to sources that no other agency in the world has.

  “She told me that I had two choices. If I continued as I was, I would eventually be found out. By the look on her face, I was certain that she’d make sure I was found out. Then I’d spend the rest of my life in prison.”

  “What was the second choice?” Liv asked.

  “I could make sure Dante Malcolm and Simon Locke were dead, and I could start over with a new agency and opportunities I’d never get elsewhere.”

  “And you agreed?” Liv asked. “Just like that? She could’ve been a terrorist—anyone.”

  “I work for an agency called Trident. It’s an off-the-books special-ops group based out of the United States, but the agents who comprise it are international. At the core, it’s an antiterrorism organization, although it’s not a government-sanctioned agency. Those who created us come from both the governmental and private sectors. We’re called The Gravediggers, because we’ve all had to die in our old lives so we could be reborn to do this job. We have no ties to anyone from our old lives. It’s policy.”

  “So you jumped off that turret and ‘died,’ ” she said. Liv couldn’t even wrap her head around what he was telling her. There were so many deceptions and untruths between them that she didn’t know what she could believe anymore.

  “I did,” he said. “She recruited me because of my skills as Simon Locke. I’m part of a team that is assigned certain missions. We live together, work together, do recon together, and would take a bullet for each other. But she didn’t recruit me to work with the team all of the time, so once again I’ve been living a double life. She sends me on jobs like this one, where she thinks it’s more effective for a single operative to go in.”

  “And what do you get out of it?” Liv asked.

  “Money, for one thing,” he said. “But part of my payment is being able to take a piece of my choosing as a commission. I was in Mittal’s bedroom because of a painting that hung over his bed. I get the launch codes, I get the painting, and everybody is happy.”

  “Except you’re still stealing,” Liv said. “Just because you’re saving the world at the same time doesn’t give you a free pass to take people’s things.”

  “I’ll have you know I’ve never just taken people’s things. Simon Locke worked on a case-by-case basis. He could be hired to retrieve stolen artifacts or family heirlooms that ended up in the wrong hands. He never stole anything that wasn’t already stolen. I took my commission piece only after I’d secured the piece I was being paid to go in for.”

  Liv’s mouth dropped open in surprise. She certainly hadn’t expected that explanation. It didn’t change the fact that he was a liar, but it was good to know that he had some kind of moral compass and wasn’t a complete degenerate.

  “What’s going to happen when you come back empty-handed?” she asked.

  “Who says I’m going back empty-handed? As soon as we get back to the plane, Elaine can tell us what she’s found out about where Mittal is taking the girls and the launch codes. We just have to get one of these grates off to get out of here.”

  “I think we can help you with that, mate,” a voice said from somewhere beneath them.

  “Who the hell is that?” Liv asked.

  Dante turned his head sharply, and frowned. “Axel? What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

  “Well, mate, after listening to your story, I think we’re debating whether or not to spring you or to let Mittal’s soldiers take care of you. But there’s no reason for the lady to suffer, so I guess we’re getting you out.”

  Liv watched a myriad of expressions cross Dante’s face until it finally went cold and blank. There was a soft hiss and a blue glow from below as a blowtorch was fired up, and she and Dante scooted back as the man below removed the grate.

  She looked down into the hole and realized there was at least a twenty-foot drop to the ground; a man was hanging from the ceiling of the tunnel by some sort of harness, the blowtorch in one hand and the grate in the other. He handed the grate up to Dante, who set it aside, and then tossed the blowtorch down to whoever was waiting below.

  “Stand back,” called the person standing at the bottom, his voice tinny.

  Dante pulled her back from the hole, and a grappling hook shot up and connected with the ceiling above them. The rope was tugged on a couple of times to check for stability, and then the one Dante called Axel snapped a couple of carabiners to the rope and passed them to Dante.

  “See you at the bottom, mate,” the man said, and then there was a whooshing sound as he slid down the rope.

  Liv took one carabiner from Dante and wrapped her ankle around the rope, eager to be as far away from Dubai as she possibly could. Then she looked at Dante and saw the indecision on his face.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “I’m trying to decide if my chances are better with Mittal’s soldiers or with my brothers.” The corner of his mouth quirked and he shook his head. “I have to say that I’m not completely sure.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “I don’t think you understand,” Li
v said. She spoke slowly and spaced her words, hoping this time they’d listen instead of going about the business of getting the plane prepped for takeoff. “I’m not going to Texas. I have a job to do. I’m going to track down Mittal and those little girls and make sure they’re returned to their families. If I have to go through all of you to do that, then so be it.”

  She’d already tried deplaning twice, but one of her rescuers kept stopping her and telling her to take a seat. The next person who told her to sit down was going to get a fist to the nose.

  “It’s no use, Liv,” Dante told her, already buckled into one of the plush leather seats. “They’re just following protocol. You know too much about us, and now they have to make sure you’re not a threat.”

  “Yes,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Thank you so much for sharing the information. If I’d known this was the outcome I would’ve told you to keep your confessions to yourself. Why is it that you never seem to cause me anything but trouble?”

  “I suppose you’re just lucky,” he said, giving her a smile that told her she was pushing the edge of his temper.

  It hadn’t gone past her notice that his two team members hadn’t spoken a word to him since they’d been rescued. There was definitely a tension between them that was bordering on hostile.

  “You need to take your seat and get buckled,” Axel said to her. “We’re ready for takeoff.”

  Liv growled and his eyes widened in surprise. “You’re wearing a wedding ring,” she said. “If you tell me to take a seat one more time instead of listening to what I have to say, I’m going to take that knife in your boot and put it to good use. You’ll be going back to your wife without a very important piece of your anatomy. If you get my meaning.”

  The other one snorted out a laugh and closed and sealed the hatch on the door. Her gaze flashed to him and his smile disappeared. She was long past the point of playing nice.

  “You’re Mossad,” she said, taking a step forward. “I recognize it in the way you move. I spent several months training with Mossad before I took my assignment at Interpol.”

  “Then you know how we deal with threats,” he said, raising a brow and then moving past her to take a seat.

  Her smile was sharp and harsh. “Exactly,” she said. “I’m glad we both agree since being kept against my will is clearly a threat.”

  Levi moved to stand, but Dante said, “Levi,” and he hesitated, but eventually sat back down. “It does no good to do this. You’ll eventually overpower her, but she’s trained so one of you will end up getting hurt. And she’s not the enemy.”

  The two men ignored Dante as if he weren’t even on the plane, and Axel took the seat next to Levi.

  “Liv, you know they’re not going to let you go until they’re satisfied that you’re not a threat. We have the resources to find the girls much faster than you do now that you’ve left Interpol. It would be wise to take advantage of it.”

  Liv narrowed her eyes and thought it through. She knew he was right. But she didn’t have to like it. She could find the girls on her own. She still had contacts and favors owed. But time was of the essence.

  “I’ll stay for the girls,” she said, looking straight at Axel and Levi. “Their safety is the most important thing at the moment. But I’m not your prisoner, and the second you start to treat me like one I’ll take you out or die trying. Am I clear?”

  “Miss Rothschild,” Axel tried again. “We’re the good guys. And we can help you hunt down Raj Mittal and the girls he’s transporting. But there are precautions that must be taken. We don’t know you. We’ve never worked with you. And it’s policy that we never work with any other agency. You know things about us that could get us all killed. And I can promise you, the threats that we face make your worst days in the office seem like a day in the park.”

  She was a skeptic at heart. All cops and agents were. Everyone lied, and everyone had an agenda. She just had to figure out what theirs was. There was no way to verify if everything that Dante had told her was the truth.

  There was a leather sofa that sat against the wall of the plane, and two matching leather chairs directly across from it, where Dante was seated. And there were two chairs to the left of the sofa, and two more to the right, which is where Levi and Axel were seated. She chose one of the chairs to the left of the sofa, even though she hated facing backward. It was better than sitting next to Dante, and she wanted to keep the other two in her sights at all times.

  “Hello again, Miss Rothschild,” a silky familiar voice said through the speakers. “It’s lovely to see you. I’m reading your vitals and your blood pressure and heart rate are both elevated.”

  “What a surprise,” she said, buckling her lap belt.

  “I believe that was sarcasm,” Elaine said. “I’m not always good at picking up on rhetorical devices or irony. But I’ve been practicing.”

  “You’re spot-on,” Liv said.

  “Excellent,” Elaine countered. “You should relax and enjoy the flight. We have many hours ahead of us. I suggest you try the chamomile tea and get some sleep. That’s what my database says is the best advice to give you.”

  “I appreciate that, Elaine,” she said. “But you don’t fall asleep in the enemy’s lair.”

  “I will add that to my list of advice,” she said.

  “Elaine,” Axel said. “Unfortunately, Miss Rothschild …”

  “Agent Rothschild,” Liv corrected.

  “Agent Rothschild has discovered things she shouldn’t about The Gravediggers.”

  “Oh, my,” Elaine said. “I hate it when that happens. Very awkward. Are we implementing standard protocol?”

  “Yes, please,” Axel said.

  Liv didn’t know what standard protocol was, but she knew the moment multiple screens descended from the ceiling that she wasn’t going to like it. And then her academy picture came on the screen and she knew she really wasn’t going to like it.

  “Olivia Caroline Rothschild,” Elaine began. “Born at thirteen zero two hours on April third, nineteen hundred and eighty-seven to Oliver Rothschild and Margaret Hemingway Rothschild. A sister, Elizabeth Margaret Rothschild was born at thirteen fourteen hours on the same date. Elizabeth was abducted at Harrods department store on December sixteenth, nineteen ninety-three. She was never recovered.”

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Liv said, fury spreading through her like molten lava.

  “Unfortunately,” Elaine said. “I am not allowed to fucking kid when standard protocol has been implemented.”

  She shot a look at Levi and Axel. “I’m about to shove your standard protocol somewhere very painful.” But they ignored her and kept focused on the information scrolling on screen.

  “Olivia Rothschild excelled in school with top marks, and she was field hockey captain. She attended the University of St. Andrews in Fife, Scotland, earning a degree in international relations and a master’s degree in criminal justice. She then went to work for Scotland Yard, where she remained for a year before being recruited by Interpol.

  “She was put on paid leave twenty-one months ago in conjunction with case 385271, and an internal investigation was conducted. No charges were brought against her, and she was reinstated with same rank.”

  “What’s case 385271?” Axel asked.

  “It’s a dummy file,” Elaine answered. “The investigation file has been deleted, along with any related case files.”

  Liv arched a brow and narrowed her gaze at Dante. “You deleted Interpol files?” she asked.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dante said.

  “We’ll assume this has something to do with the classified files on Dante that Elaine was able find for us,” Axel said. “Simon Locke has had a hell of a career.”

  “Yes, I find it interesting after all this time that those files were readily available for you to find,” Dante said.

  “You made Simon Locke disappear off the face of the earth?” she asked.

 
; “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said again. “But if I understand what you’re implying, it’s not impossible to wipe a person’s history. I’m surprised you didn’t check.”

  “Sometimes it’s best to let the past stay dead,” she said. “But I’ve got the hard copy files at home if I feel nostalgic.”

  “Do you?” he asked, smiling. And she knew if she looked in her file cabinet that all her notes and case files involving Simon Locke would be gone.

  “Elaine,” Axel said. “Pull up Dante’s classified file and cross section mentions of Liv Rothschild and Simon Locke.”

  “Stand by,” Elaine said.

  The others were still ignoring Dante, and while she appreciated their dedication to doing so, their stubbornness was overlooking an important detail.

  “You said all the files were readily available for them to find,” she said to Dante. “I’m going to assume that wasn’t always the case.”

  “You’ve always been very intuitive,” Dante said.

  “And because of that skill, I’m going to deduce that someone chose this moment for your files to be readily available when you’ve been keeping this secret from your team the last couple of years.”

  “It’s probably best not to mention that right now,” Levi said.

  “Give it a rest,” she said. “He was obviously right to keep it from you if this is your reaction.”

  “Agent Rothschild and MI6 agent Malcolm were part of a joint task force to track down Simon Locke,” Elaine said.

  “Lovely,” Liv said. “Please air the worst day of my life in front of a room full of strangers. Let me save you the trouble. Dante Malcolm, aka Simon Locke, played Agent Rothschild like a violin, stole a painting worth millions right out from under her nose, and then plummeted to his death, only to not have really died at all.”

  “Yes, that about sums it up,” Elaine said.

  “I’ll fill in the parts of the files that were deleted, where I was put on leave while internal affairs investigated whether or not I was in collusion with Locke all along, and I stood by and let them go through my home and all of my other properties while they looked for all of the art he’s stolen.”