by A. V. Asher
“What?” Jason cast his eyes around the garage, hoping Adam wouldn’t bring them any heat.
“It’s not here.” Adam picked up a bag and dumped it on the ground.
“Are you serious?” Jason said. He turned on Jared Silva. “You told us they brought the package with them.”
“I thought they gave it to the agent.”
Jason whirled on Mercedes. “Where the fuck is it?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Adam moved, latching onto Mercedes by her hair and pulling her around the car.
“Oh my god,” she screamed, trying to break away from Adam’s grip. Jason peered over the side. Special Agent Doug Michaelson lay in a pool of his own blood, a gruesome tear opening his throat.
“Stop it. Mercedes, that’s enough,” Adam barked. “We aren’t fucking around anymore. Where’s the package Mara Donovan gave you?”
Jason’s heart was thundering. Watching Adam rip at Mercedes’s hair was enough to make him blow his lid. But the timing was all wrong. And Adam needed answers.
Tears flowed down her face, and she looked up at Adam. “I don’t know. Alec gave it to him. He said he was going to take it to a secure facility in Washington.”
Jared Silva piped up. “You need to leave. The ambassador gave you the green light to take the woman. Not to kill an FBI agent.”
Adam’s eyes met Jason’s. Mercedes gasped, her mouth hanging open at what Jared Silva had exposed to her.
Stupid motherfucker.
Adam shook his head and pushed Mercedes. She landed in Jason’s arms. With a quick turn, Adam’s knife plunged into Jared Silva’s neck. Gore poured from the wound. The wet slurp of the blade being pulled out cut through the quiet. Adam dragged Silva’s body next to the agent’s, ignoring the gurgling sounds coming from the dying man. He wiped the knife off on Silva’s suit and tucked the blade away.
Mercedes was taking gulping breaths, trembling. Adam stalked toward her. She shrunk away. Jason tightened his hold, but he didn’t like the way Adam was glaring at her.
“Where the fuck are the documents?” Adam growled.
“I told you. I don’t know.” Fear tinged her words. “Alec gave them to the agent.”
“Hold her.” Adam ran his hands down her body, fingers grabbing at her breasts and moving to her crotch.
“What the fuck, man?” Jason shoved Adam’s hand away.
“Making sure she isn’t hiding a flash drive.”
“Get your hands off her. I’ll do it.”
Mercedes flinched but let him run his hand over her body. Nothing.
“Shit. McKinley must have kept it,” Adam said. “Get her in the car. We need to get the hell out of here.”
Jason clamped his hand on her arm and led her to their car. Mercedes didn’t fight him, which was good. Adam was at the end of his rope and would likely kill her if she didn’t do as she was told.
Jason would need to keep her quiet and cooperative if he was going to keep her alive.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Mercedes could make the lights from the streets below turn into long glowing stars when she squinted her eyes. Traffic on the motorway was slowing up, elongating the distance between the white and red lights snaking through the city.
She’d been confined to this room since they’d left the embassy the night before. It was comfortable enough. A small but well-furnished guest room with an attached bathroom. Mostly, they left her alone, although Jason had attempted to talk to her several times.
The dichotomy between Jason and Adam had thrown Mercedes. She’d always thought Jason was the one calling the shots, but there was a tension between the men. No one looked to Jason for direction or even seemed to take him seriously.
And they kept him from seeing her. Mercedes was grateful for that. She’d envisioned the horrors Jason was plotting to unleash on her. Punishment for running from him. For running to Alec.
Mercedes had done her best to push thoughts of Alec aside since they had taken her hostage. She could make herself panic thinking of him. Was he safe? Did he know she was missing yet?
Raised male voices punctured the quiet of her prison. Fear shot through her when she recognized one of them as Jason’s. He was coming close to her door.
“I want to ask her a few questions, that’s all.” His tone had taken on a manipulative quality. For once, it didn’t work.
“Why the hell would I do that?” Although she had seldom heard him speak, Patrick’s voice was unmistakable.
“It’s just a couple of questions. What’s the big deal?”
“Like all those other times you wanted to question her, and she ended up in the ER? Then I gotta sit my happy ass in a hospital waiting room for a week, watching Judge Judy reruns and explaining to the boss how I let it happen? No fucking thanks.”
She couldn’t hear Jason’s response, but Patrick cut him off. “Look, I’m under strict orders. You’re not going in there. Period. You want another go at her, you need to clear it with the boss.”
The sound of a door slamming made her jump. For a moment, she thought Jason had left. But a cacophony of greetings told her new people had joined them. A feminine voice cut through the noise and Mercedes’s muscles tensed.
Mariah was here.
Of course she was. For a time, she’d forgotten the bitch existed. The sound of her shrill voice slicing through the air grated on her nerves.
Sudden footsteps and a key being roughly jiggled in the knob made her sit up. Patrick swung the door open and beckoned her to join him. Nerves pulsed through her.
Mercedes stood and put one cautious foot in front of the other. The room had a modern feel. Ivory furniture with gray accents was everywhere. The large balcony windows opened to a view of the Tower Bridge. A view worth millions.
Instrumental jazz music played in the background, giving off a false sense of tranquility, as if she were a guest for a dinner party. Adam and Mariah sat at a marble countertop. Adam’s expression was one of boredom, but Mariah had a catty smirk on her face.
Mercedes ignored her. Nothing could be gained by engaging that bitch.
The tinkling of glass drew her eye to the large bar near the balcony door. Someone was shuffling through the bottles.
Mumbled swearing came from under the bar. “You would think with what I pay the staff, the bar would always be fully stocked.”
Mercedes gasped when the man finally emerged with a bottle held triumphantly in his hand.
“Found it,” he announced, as if the entire room had been concerned their host might be out of gin. Marcus Cooper looked up at Mercedes with a friendly smile, pouring a generous amount of the clear liquid into a shaker.
“Gin martini alright with you, Ms. Elliott?”
Mercedes’s voice didn’t work, so she nodded. He smiled and popped the lid on and shook it a handful of times.
Ruggedly handsome, with tanned skin and a fit body, Marcus Cooper was the model of wealth and excess. Cooper was known all over the world for his philanthropic ventures as well as his social prowess. A handful of well-timed scandals had rocketed him into the public view. Mercedes had little doubt he’d soaked up the attention.
A delicate glass pick with two olives garnished the chilled glasses, and he bought the cocktails around the counter.
“May I call you Mercedes?” He extended the martini to her with expert grace.
“Sure.” She took the glass and held it to her lips, careful not to drink any of it. She might be a little disoriented by his friendly demeanor, but she couldn’t forget where she was.
Marcus Cooper held his hand out for her to sit on the cream and gray sofa. He sat across from her. She placed her untouched drink on the coffee table.
“I’m Marcus Cooper. Of course, you probably knew that. I apologize for not being here to greet you before today. I flew in as soon as I heard you were my guest. Thank you so much for joining us.” At her quirked brow, he added, “I mean, I know you didn’t have a lot of
choice in the matter. My men can be quite determined when I ask them to get something for me.” He sipped his drink delicately and said as if confiding a secret to her, “I rarely ask how they do it, but . . .” He turned to the others. “How did you persuade Mercedes to join us?”
“We threatened to open up her boyfriend’s skull on the sidewalk.” Adam stared at Mercedes in warning. A shiver ran through her. He was hitting his mark.
“Oh, my!” Cooper hooted as if Adam had told a board room joke and not threatened to murder someone on the street. “That is really effective. So violent.” He shook his head as he took another sip of his drink.
Jason, who had been watching quietly from the corner, stiffened and walked to the window, but not before Mercedes saw the anger flash in his eyes.
Cooper sensed this as well. “Ah, now. Our Mr. Hollis doesn’t enjoy being reminded of your new beau.” He gave Mercedes a conspiratorial wink.
Jason said nothing, his fists curling against his thighs, his shoulders squared in rage.
Cooper’s voice shifted to one laced with warning. “Perhaps Mr. Hollis needs to be reminded not to let his jealousy get away from him.”
Mercedes’s eyes shot to Jason’s tightly wound silhouette. He seemed to contemplate this.
With another delicate sip, Cooper leaned forward. “You see, Mercedes, I don’t give a shit who you fuck.”
A chill ran up her spine. The contrast of his friendly tone and the coarseness of his words were unsettling. This was intentional. He was trying to bait her.
Mercedes smiled. “That’s good. I wasn’t planning on discussing my latest fuck with you.”
A pause charged the room. Cooper burst into laughter.
“Oh, I like that response, Mercedes. Well done.” Cooper’s eyes shifted back to the window. “What do you think, Mr. Hollis? Do you think she means you?”
Jason’s hadn’t left the window, but his arms tensed at his sides.
“So, here’s the thing.” Cooper was suddenly serious. “There was some damaging information collected by someone who was once close to me. I’m sure you know what sort of information I mean.” She said nothing, so he went on. “I know your meeting at the embassy was meant to turn everything over to the FBI. Obviously, we couldn’t let that happen.”
Cooper stood and walked to the bar, grabbing the bottle of gin. “It’s a shame about that agent we had to eliminate. That’s going to be quite the mess to clean up. But we couldn’t have anyone running around with your story in a notebook, could we?” Cooper had finished his martini and now mixed another, the ice on metal rattling her nerves.
He walked back to the sofa and smiled. “I will get the original documents back. Even if I have to destroy everything and everyone in your life.” The false joviality was gone, replaced with a cold directness. “Where are the files?”
“I don’t have them.”
“Well, of course, you don’t have them now.” The base of the martini glass left a circle against the leg of his tan slacks. “But you know where they are.”
It wasn’t a question.
“I actually don’t.”
“Mm-hmm.” He took a long drink of his martini, his eyes not leaving hers. “Where is Mara Donovan?”
“I have no idea. Last time I saw her, she was running for her life on the news.”
“How did she get you the files?”
Mercedes stared at him.
“You are going to make this tough for us.” Cooper sat back with a sigh. “Well, that’s unfortunate.”
Cooper stood, polishing off his drink. “If you can’t help us, we’ll appeal to the ones who know more.” He turned to Adam. “Send a message. Just don’t be too rough. She’s not useful to us if she’s damaged.”
Adam said nothing but looked at Jason. Fear ran down Mercedes’s spine.
Cooper offered her a smirk. “I’m afraid I’ll be stepping out for this part. I do hope you’ll remember something soon. I’d hate for Mr. Hollis to ruin that pretty face of yours.” Cooper swept Mercedes’s martini away as he left, leaving her alone with her nightmares.
Jason stalked closer to her, his jaw set. The anger burned in his eyes. She whimpered and scurried backward, trying to stay out of his reach.
The first blow hit her cheek. Mercedes fell back against the couch, her elbows trying to protect her face. Jason was on her, the weight of him pressing on her hips. She took his fist two more times to the face. Her nose broke open. The metallic smell filled her senses, blood staining the fresh cream cushions.
“Alright, that’s plenty,” Adam said.
Jason pulled away, his weight leaving her. Mercedes bolted for the door, but Mariah got to her first, tackling her with a grunt. Mercedes screamed, squirming to get away from Mariah’s iron grip. Blood smeared on the ivory marble tile. Mercedes kicked, connecting with Mariah’s face.
Jason suddenly loomed over her. He punched her hard, making her head bounce off the floor. Stars swam in her eyes, nausea building in her gut. He pulled her to her feet, his arm wrapped around her waist.
He nuzzled her ear and murmured. “Stop fighting. You’re making this worse.”
Jason was enjoying this. She could feel his erection pressing against her ass. Her vision wavered. His fingers tightened, taking an even firmer grip.
“Patrick, get the camera ready. Bring her in here.”
Mercedes leaned against the wall, trying to contain the flow of blood between her fingers. She stopped and let it drip. Perhaps some intrepid crime scene unit would collect it as evidence after these assholes killed her.
Patrick returned from the hallway carrying a tripod with a small camera attached to the top.
The room shifted. She held back vomit.
“Ready when you are,” Patrick said.
Mercedes watched warily as Jason approached her and the camera.
“Hello there, Mr. McKinley.” He sneered into the camera. “As you may be aware, the lovely Mercedes Elliott is not where you last put her. In fact, for the last twenty-four hours, she’s been a guest of mine. I’ve enjoyed my time with her immensely.” The innuendo in his voice was unmistakable. A calculated lie designed to create maximum pain. “You need proof, though, of course.” Lunging at Mercedes, Jason pulled her to stand in front of him and forced her to look at the camera. She tried to pry his hand away, but he only held on tighter.
“You have something we need, Mr. McKinley. I believe we can work out a deal. You produce the files, and I’ll consider giving her back to you in one piece.” His hand slid down the length of her body, pulling her into him suggestively. “Mostly.” The taunt in his voice turned Mercedes’s stomach. “But if you even dream of going to the police or the FBI, I’ll send her to you in pieces.”
Jason held her upright while they reviewed the playback.
“It’ll work. Send it to McKinley now,” Adam barked, grabbing Mercedes by the arm. She teetered as he dragged her down the hall and shoved her inside her bedroom.
“Clean yourself up.” The door slammed behind him.
Mercedes tripped on her way to the bathroom but got there in time to throw up in the toilet rather than all over the cream carpet. Unable to get off the floor, she leaned against the wall. She took large breaths and hoped the room would stop spinning.
There was no way she would survive this. Even if Alec handed everything over, they were going to kill her. Her heart raced in fear. Fear for herself. Fear for Alec and the others.
None of them were safe as long as she and Mara Donovan were out here.
Chapter Fifty
“The bodies of two men, both believed to be American, were found in the car park of the United States Embassy. Local investigators are working with the American authorities to identify the victims and determine the cause of death. The US ambassador has issued a statement . . .”
Alec tuned out the rest of the news report. His mind was reeling. Pacing the length of the conference room, his stomach lurched with each step. The news reports had been bre
aking all afternoon.
They fucking had her.
“How the fuck did this happen?” he yelled, not for the first time. “I thought the United States embassy would be crawling with security.”
“They had to have had someone inside,” Mason said. “Nick said Jason waltzed right in there with a security card. It might have been Jared Silva, the rep that was found with Michaelson. He walked them to the car.”
Alec tried to sit but couldn’t make his muscles cooperate. He hadn’t been able to stop moving since Nick Kessler called, letting him know his agent was down and Mercedes was gone.
“Do you think she’s already dead?” The words were poison in his mouth.
“No,” Declan said. Alec searched Declan’s face, trying to find a spark of hope. “They’ll let her live until they have the files. They gotta make sure they contain any sort of damage these two women have done.”
“Except we have the files.” Alec let out a breath.
“And Nick’s expecting them,” Mason said.
“He’s going to have to wait. Or better yet, he can help us find her. But those files stay with us until she’s found. After that, I don’t give a shit who has them.”
“I think Sadie would disagree,” Cressida said, looking up from her computer. “Sadie’s whole life has been a wreck for the last three years because of this. She’s going to want to clear the ledger.”
“I just want her alive and back with me.”
“Aye, one step at a time, mate. We’ll find her.” Declan said.
“Oh, shit,” Cressida burst out. “Alec, we got a message.”
She met Alec’s eyes. His heart shuddered in his chest. Coming around the table, he could see the image on her screen. It was a thumbnail image of Jason Hollis. Cressida clicked the mouse, bringing the video to life.
Breathing became difficult as he listened to the message. Jason pulled Mercedes into him, displaying her broken face. Blood coursed down her small hands. Spots filled Alec’s vision. He backed away from the computer.
What had he done to her when the camera wasn’t on?