Fight Fire With Fire.

by Amy J. Fetzer

  She just sputtered, yet her body, which was spinning toward another planet, screamed for more. She really didn’t need this kind of disruption, she thought when his smile widened.

  “Well, I have at least one weapon in my arsenal.”

  She replaced the ear mic, glad Ellie didn’t hear that. She didn’t just moan, she purred. “I’m bullet proof.” Liar.

  “Don’t be challengin’ an Irishman, lass. You won’t win.”

  That got her back up. “I have enough people to fight, Riley, I don’t need you complicating things. Keep it in its place.” The truth was she liked him, and while kissing him was a feast for her senses, and God, her mouth, relationships were an emotional distraction.

  “Consider it kept,” he said, but that cheesy smile didn’t alter a fraction. Damn. “And sticking with the real subject . . .” He winked. “What do you have on Barasa?”

  She couldn’t move fast enough. “Very little.” She crossed the room and pressed a wood cabinet. A drawer slid out, and she removed a thick file. Tangible files in her hands always gave her a perspective she never saw on a computer. “Some light reading. Cale Barasa, no known origin, no background beyond the last five years or so. Whoever he really is, we’ll never learn the truth.” She handed over the dossier. “He has no fingerprints. Burned or cut them off, I suppose.” Riley started to speak, but she said, “We had a clean one off a glass and sent it through the databases. It was too mutilated. We think he’s African, but not a Muslim. He has no cause, no loyalty. He’s been seen recently with the Russian mafia, and he’s on friendly terms with Hezbollah, Colombian FARCs, Bolivian radicals . . .”

  “A real well-rounded guy, huh?” he said, thumbing through the file.

  “Oh yes, and he’s used every loophole and soaked up the corruption to keep out of prison. The recent buzz is that he’s suddenly distanced himself from his other clients, but he’s got a few million in the bank. Fine, he’s selling or buying.” She shrugged. “No deliveries recently that we’ve detected. Then earlier today, he met with this woman.” She opened her cell phone and showed him the snapshot of Red Shoes.

  Riley shook his head. “Pretty, but no clue.”

  “We’re running it. She’s the money.”

  His brows shot up.

  “Yeah, I know. In this part of the world, not so common.”

  “I’ve met a few women vicious enough,” he said.

  “Bad love life?”

  “Great as a matter of fact.” He looked her over with slow detail. “Better now.”

  She felt a blush steal up her body from her knees and her traitorous skin did a little happy dance. The betrayal annoyed her and she turned away, but when she glanced back, he was smiling like he had from the first moment she’d met him. Sort of amused and hungry. How surreal was that?

  She needed some perspective and said, “You want to look at that?” She pointed to the black flash drive he twirled on his finger. He nodded, still with that goofy smile.

  She went to the polished dark wood counter that ran the length of the north wall. The moment she stepped in front of it, the area illuminated from overhead. With both hands, she pressed the wood and a rectangle sprang up. She flipped the wireless console over, entered a numbered password, and the wall directly in front of her lowered, revealing a large screen. She always thought that was so cool and loved her gadgets.

  She stepped back. “Scan it first.” She gestured to a block housing USB ports on a separate unit. “I’ll give you a hand if you need it, but I need a half hour to clean up first. The kitchen is that way.” She pointed back over her shoulder. “And if you find anything good, share.” She grabbed her boots and walked down the corridor.

  Riley watched her go, a pleasant view in those worn jeans. She unbraided her hair and when she turned into a room, he went back to the console and pulled up a chair, scanning the flash drive. When the light blinked, indicating no viruses, he opened the hard drive, running through the files. Vaghn was definitely intelligent. It was encrypted.

  Damned smart ass. Riley ran an encryption program, then left the desk and headed to the kitchen. He found the beer first, then prowled in the cupboards. Lucky for him, a few minutes later, Sebastian entered the room, clean-shaven and dressed in dark trousers and a gray tee shirt. Riley handed him a beer.

  “She’s got a disguise room.” Sebastian tossed a thumb toward the hall. “Fully stocked. Even a priest’s cassock.” He took a long pull on the beer, then made a face and looked at the Tiger label. “The CIA can’t get American beer delivered?”

  Riley didn’t think she was still exclusively CIA, but kept that to himself.

  He glanced around the room clearly designed to hide its purpose. The long polished counter appeared suspended on pale green walls. Light flooded down on every surface, but it wasn’t natural. There were no windows on this side, and he suspected the place went further back than these dimensions showed. An L shaped sofa separated the place and gave it a lived-in feeling, but it was the high gloss surface of a couple tables that looked deceiving, and the Company was all about deception.

  He glanced at Sebastian. He could tell the man was itching to get busy. “She said to help yourself to the kitchen.”

  Sebastian motioned him to the other side of the island, then snooped in the fridge and cabinets, making noise over the improperly stocked spices. “What do you know about her?” He pulled out pans and a cutting board.

  “Nothing. I wasn’t going to try back then. I was in enough hot water at the time.” But he’d play some catch up, and find out what she knew about the Fundraiser. She’d dropped that 800-pound gorilla on him, and he’d never been able to prove it.

  It had cost him far too much to let it fade away.

  Safia slipped into the room and closed the door, signaling Ellie. “Get me a secure connection to the DDO.” Deputy Director of Operations.

  “Making the connection,” Ellie said. “So give, do they match their pictures?”

  Yes, she thought, and if anything, Riley got better looking with age. “Come down and have a look.”

  “No, no, I like my perch.”

  Two-hundred-eighty meters in the sky on top of the Overseas Union Bank Center was definitely a crow’s nest. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “Ew, like a bunch of uncles,” Ellie said.

  Safia smothered a laugh, grasped the headset, briefly wondering where her mobile phone went missing this time. She focused, and listened for the familiar pauses and clicks through secure scrambles. The call went through and when he answered, she started in with, “There were Federal agents in the area and you didn’t tell me?”

  “I can’t know everything.”

  “It’s your job to know, dammit. It’s one small country. How hard was that? I ruined their op!”

  “So what are you, embarrassed?”

  He sounded distant. “They’re Diplomatic Security, Dragon One.”

  He hesitated for a few seconds. “Confirmed?”

  “You know them.” These guys get around, she thought. “Explain.”

  “Our operations crossed once. Your former Colombian counterpart is married to one of the team, I understand.”

  Safia’s brows rose and she sat back. Jade Everett? Aka Alexa Gavlin. They’d been trained together by the same woman, Lania Price. The only difference was Alexa wasn’t so willing. Safia had wanted to hunt the worst of the world since she was sixteen. Price was the first person they’d learned not to trust. She dismissed the connection.

  “Not a concern. I want the locations and assignments of any Feds in this country. Today. And I want a dossier on Jason Vaghn, and anyone he worked with in the last ten years.”

  “Sounds fair.”

  God, she hated him sometimes. It wasn’t like they weren’t on the same team, but he was a skinflint on information. Another reason not to trust Adam Kincade to give her the whole story. But she knew Riley could.

  After the call, and reviewing t
he dossier Safia strode into the great room, letting her anger take her the last few steps. She stopped short when she smelled frying onions. Sebastian was at the stove, stirring. She’d never seen a man cook and certainly not in here. It threw her for a second.

  Riley sat on a stool at the island and looked up.

  Her gaze pinned him. “You didn’t tell me you knew Vaghn.”

  “I haven’t told you a lot of things.”

  “I thought you’d studied your target,” she said. “But you have history with this guy?”

  His gaze dropped to the papers she held and he scowled. “Yes. A big one.”

  “Then we’re done. I don’t do vendettas.”

  He left the counter stool, facing her head on. “Someone did me a favor with this dandy assignment, and I’ll find out who, but that doesn’t change a damn thing. He’s a fugitive and we have every indication he’s committing treason right now. I’ll get authority to go after him for stronger charges, but I’ll wipe his ass off the map if I have to, so no Safia, we are not done.”

  “Riley, you get emotional and it rules you. I know. I’ve let it.”

  His look turned dark. “Too bad. That’s how the CIA works, but Dragon One doesn’t goose step.” She scowled at him, yet he went on. “We accept assignments on emotion, for reasons that matter to us as a team. And we give a damn about the people hurt in the process. Vaghn massacred my Marines, then smiled about it. He told me he’d do five years and not a day more and he was right. He orchestrated it all, knew how to bring his flight-risk status down. The minute the FBI took surveillance off him, he split without a trace. Dragon One spent a week in that pesthole looking twenty-four seven. We had him, Safia, and he’d be in U.S. territory by now but because of you, he’s right where he planned to be, out of our reach.”

  “You won’t make me feel the least bit guilty over blowing the tire. I didn’t know your team was in the area, a tidbit that took Base less than a minute to learn. This could have been avoided.” She’d hold the Diplomat Security accountable, but it wouldn’t help the situation now. “That said, I cannot risk emotional decisions made at the wrong time, even if it’s for the right reasons.”

  “Understandable.” He nodded, his temper fading. “But our judgment has been spot on so far.” He took a step nearer, his gaze locked with hers. “When it’s not, I expect you to say so.”

  She frowned. “You’d defer?”

  “I didn’t say that, but I don’t claim to have the answers all the time.” His brows knit for a second, his eyes softening. “You’ll be the one having a tough time of it, I’m thinking.”

  She folded her arms. “How’s that exactly?”

  “Ahh, don’t get your knickers in a twist. You’ve been alone except for that,” he gestured to the comm-link she wore. “And considering another opinion when you’ve had the run of it,” he shrugged, “could be a problem.”

  She smiled, and knew where this was leading. “I’m all for more mutual exchanges and debate since the lack of it got us here.”

  “Well then, I guess you’ll be keeping a watch on my emotions.” A smile tilted his lips. “Wouldn’t want them to get the best of me, eh?”

  She stared at him for a few seconds, then said, “You’ve already been scolded once.”

  “I’ll deny myself for the sake of national security.”

  She shook her head, wondering when the fight went out of her and who was really doing the denying here. She needed a shower and some sleep, but didn’t think that would keep her on her toes enough for Donovan.

  “Safia,” he said, catching her arm before she turned away. “In the future, ask me what you want to know.”

  “I will, but paper isn’t emotional.” She shook the printouts.

  “Apparently, neither are you.”

  She inhaled, a little insulted.

  “You keep a terrific objective, but its got to vanish sometime.”

  Something tightened in her chest. “This is too deep for a first day.” She pulled free and his expression said, See what I mean? But if she dropped her guard, she’d lose the fight. Experience taught her that. She wasn’t protecting her heart. She was protecting her life. She needed a clear head at all times. She flinched when Ellie’s voice popped in her ear.

  “Our target has stopped,” Safia said, and crossed the room to a modern black lacquer table. She took a seat, flicked the switch under the top, and a screen rose out of the table as a touch keyboard whispered over her lap.

  “Mary mother, you have all the bells and whistles, don’t you?”

  He hasn’t seen the really good stuff, she thought. “Why do you think I went with the Company. America has more money.”

  “There was a choice?”

  She glanced. “My mother was Egyptian. I was born in Cairo. Raised half there, half in the U.S. My father was a U.S. diplomat.” She shrugged. “I have duel citizenship.”

  So did he, but . . . “That explains the accent in Serbia.” It was barely detectable now. Something, he gathered, she struggled to cover.

  She typed, then sat back, pointing to the screen. “He’s with bigger fish. The car’s at the home of a member of the Hong Kong Triads.” It was a pricey gated neighborhood, small. Most millionaires in Singapore were on the top floor penthouses.

  “Bloody hell.”

  “His deal could involve the Triads, but I doubt it.”

  “Why?”

  “They don’t want attention. They’re low key even in their own backyard. Plus, they don’t need him. They have a network of their own suppliers and don’t like outsiders. We put a ripple in his plan. Barasa’s calling in favors to hide.” A neon stripe showed the beacon’s path on a street map.

  Riley leaned close and she felt hemmed in. “And surrounding himself with a wee bit of firepower, I’m thinking.”

  Then the car’s tracking signal died.

  “Oh no he didn’t,” she muttered, and typed soundlessly, trying to get it back. She tilted to look at Riley. “Now it’s up to Dragon One.”

  “Scoot that sweet behind over, love.” He waved at her. “And let me introduce you to our resident geek.” He worked the keyboard and only seconds passed before the screen blinked with images. Logan was fitting a head set on when it focused.

  Logan frowned and inclined his head. “You’re not alone.”

  “No,” Riley said. “Don’t pry. It’s not polite.”

  Safia started to lean in, but he pushed her back, his funny smile making her frown. She sat back, going with it.

  “Bio-marker tracking, Logan.”

  “That’s it? Wait, Sebastian said you had him already.”

  “Long story, different Op now.”

  Logan leaned in and filled the screen as he typed. Riley tapped a key and Logan’s image disappeared, and the screen generated on its own. The satellite map reappeared, and Riley watched the imagery split and divide as Logan narrowed it down to Singapore.

  The biomarker was doing its job, blinking.

  “How did you get past the security?” she whispered.

  He slid her a glance. “We have our secret weapons too, ya know.” She nudged him.

  Logan peered, grinning, then shaking his head. “Figured it would be female,” he said and Safia eyed Riley, lifting a brow. The Irishman only shrugged.

  Behind Logan, Safia could see a comfortable living room in pale tropical colors. Nice. She wondered if he was Alexa’s husband.

  “We have our resources,” Riley said. “And yes, we are very expensive.” Though the last mission put the team in the black, he didn’t want to go that route again.

  “Satisfied?” he said, pointing at the biomarker signal. “Same place, hasn’t moved.” He tapped a few more keys. “Now when it goes thirty feet past his present surroundings, it will tell us. You can get some rest.”

  She wished she could. “Thank you.” She left the bench and was heading to the shower when Sebastian stopped her.

  “Sit and eat.” From a sizzling
pan, he spilled glazed chicken and vegetables onto a large white plate, then set it in front of her. Standing on the other side of the counter, he set the service perfectly, then said, “If Max beats you to it, there won’t be anything left.”

  Safia looked at the food and her stomach growled with anticipation. She slid onto the stool, tasting a bite. It would be rude otherwise, she thought, before the explosion of flavors made her moan.

  “Why are you with Dragon One? You should have your own business.”

  “I do, the Craw Daddy in N’Orleans, but it runs itself. Or Jasmine does.”

  “Wife?”

  He shook his head. “Half sister.”

  They talked and Safia tried to eat slowly, hungry yet eager to leave. Definitely a problem tonight, she thought, absently glancing at her watch. She was partnering with them for this operation, but that’s where she drew the line. Dragon One might have the clearance and all the pals in the right places today, but in her book, that bought them only so close—and no further.

  Max wasn’t keen on being in bed with the CIA again. Yeah, he knew Riley had a past with Safia, and he was glad his buddies were alive, no doubt about that, but he didn’t trust many, and never Central Intel. They left a bad taste in his mouth the last time and he’d reserve his judgment until he got to know the woman.

  He slid the last case into the back of the car and closed the hatch, ready to call it a night.

  On the bridge, his credentials saved him some fast-talking to get near the wreck and clear it of their gear. The Kevlar would have been hard to explain. He’d sat through some questioning and gave them anything he could without blowing Safia’s cover, but it took a call to the U.S. Embassy to keep him out of jail when they’d discovered the old man riddled with bullets. Poor guy never had a chance, and he’d intentionally left the murder weapon with the suicide guy. It would have to do but he didn’t think they would get any information off the dead regardless. Not when they were so eager to die.

  He rounded the front of the car to get in and heard the tinkling bell again. He spun, scowling, then saw a child race out of a narrow building, and head off between the next alley.