by Lexi Blake
His place was with Phoebe and his family. Again, the need rose to fight, to argue, to scream. None of that would help him. That kind of rage was for men with nothing to hope for. For men with no faith.
Faith was what he lacked the first time. He could see it now. He’d been an animal fighting for his life purely out of instinct. Now his fight was defined and deeply emotional. His fight was to survive to get home to her.
His faith versus the Caliph’s.
He bowed his head. “I would love to hear what you say, Caliph.”
His eyes narrowed. “Really? Is this a new tactic? Your prior tactics were always so physical.”
“That didn’t work. Nothing really worked. I’ve been back in the real world for a while now. They don’t see any value in what I have to offer. You read the papers I’m sure. Even my new boss only sees me as a body to put in front of the employees he does care about.” The Caliph might not care to lie, but Jesse had discovered a little lie could go a long way. “I cared about the girl. I did, but she’s Agency. She’ll leave me behind in a heartbeat. You’re the only one who ever gave a damn about what happened to me.”
There was a moment of silence, a tension Jesse could feel despite the languor of the drugs still weighing him down.
“I will think on this,” the Caliph said. He stood abruptly. “In the meantime, I believe you should be punished for killing your brother. Was it you who pulled the trigger?”
“He was trying to kill me at the time.”
“It matters not. It merely shows me that you forget who your master is. I decide if you live or die. I am your god. Let this be a reminder.”
The door opened and Jesse watched as two of the Caliph’s guards entered, one carrying a four-foot bullwhip. Jesse was fairly certain the asswipe wasn’t as good with it as he’d become. He could wield that whip with delicacy, never opening up a sub’s skin. That wouldn’t be the case today because that whip was like anything else—a tool. Jesse would use it for pleasure and this man would torment him with pain.
“See if you can get him to break. I don’t like this calm in him. He’s different,” the Caliph said in Farsi. “I need the dog back.”
He didn’t fight as they tied him to the wall. There was no point. He would need his strength.
When the first blow struck, he closed his eyes and thought of her.
* * * *
Phoebe tried not to panic as she washed her hands, but all of her training was going right out the door. She was supposed to stay cool and collected, but she could feel the tears streaming down her face.
He was gone.
She looked at the clock. Morning had broken and now he’d been missing for an hour and thirty-nine minutes.
She looked into the bathroom mirror and saw the face staring back. Pale. Haunted. She’d seen it before. After Jamie had gone missing, this face had stared right back at her. Widow. It didn’t matter that she and Jesse hadn’t technically been married. She would be his widow.
A sharp knock broke the silence. “Hey, princess. You through in there?”
Erin. God, she’d hidden in the bathroom to get away from everyone. The minute they’d realized Jesse was missing, Ten and Simon had jumped into action. They’d had Hutch, Chelsea, and Adam attempting to track the helicopter. They’d managed to find a security feed that showed a man being taken to the rooftop helipad and the chopper flying off.
His face had been down, his head covered in a keffiyeh. The helicopter was owned by al Fareed Oil. According to all the reports, it had been cleared to land at the hotel to take a very sick party member to the hospital.
There was no record of it arriving at any hospital in the UAE.
How far could they have gotten?
She couldn’t stand listening to them as they discovered absolutely nothing. Every trail seemed to come up cold.
“Or have you just gone ahead and hanged yourself?” Erin’s voice once again separated her from her thoughts. “Be sure to use something sturdy. Too many people try shower curtain rods. They never hold up.”
Erin’s sarcasm was exactly what she needed to make the morning complete. Phoebe slammed the door open. “What is your problem?”
Erin looked her over. “Good to see you still have a little fight left.”
Phoebe started to move past her. If Erin wanted the bathroom, she could have the fucking bathroom. Phoebe could find another place to wait.
Wait for the news. Wait to find out if Jesse was gone forever. How long would she wait this time? At least she’d been able to surround herself with Jamie’s things the last time. She’d been able to sleep in their bed, find refuge in their home.
She and Jesse had just started out. The first place they’d made love was smoldering ruins now. How much more was going to be taken from her?
“Or not. You going to hide in the closet this time?” Erin followed her into the bedroom.
“Fuck off.”
Erin stopped, shaking her head as she looked Phoebe over. “You know, I think I will go and do something else. You’re useless. I have a friend to find. I don’t need to babysit a whiny little bitch.”
“Whiny little bitch?” Shooting Erin would make her feel better. Infinitely better.
“If the offensively titled shoe fits, I think you should wear it.”
“My fiancé is out there in the hands of the same man who nearly killed him and you’re calling me names?”
“Well, you’re running away from the problem and I’m not known for my sensitivity. I skipped that class in school. All those dudes out there will pat you on the head and tell you to go cry and try to protect you, but I’m going to tell you the truth.”
What arrogance. “And what’s your version of the truth, Erin?”
“Not a version. This part is black and white with no gray. Your brother is out there putting his job on the line for Jesse. Me and Si, we’ll put our lives on the line for him. Theo and Hutch, they missed that plane, too. The Agency isn’t going to give a shit that they did it for a good reason. They’ll lose a lot because they’re willing to sacrifice for a teammate. And what are you doing? You’re crying in the bathroom like an eighth grade girl at a dance.”
Anger started to thrum through her system. She had to admit that it was better, more invigorating than the utter despair she’d been feeling. “You think I wouldn’t sacrifice for him? You think I wouldn’t do anything to take his place?”
“I think you’re fantasizing because that’s not going to happen. I think if you keep moping around, you’re going to hate yourself a couple of days from now. You Agency fucks don’t have the balls for the real game. You spent too much time behind a computer and not enough in the real world or you would be in there helping.”
There wasn’t anything to do. They didn’t even have permission from command to still be in this country. They had no real backup. No resources. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Erin had her hair pulled back, making her look even more stark than usual. “Oh, I understand. I understand entirely too well. I understand that in your mind, he’s already dead because it’s easier to just face it than it is to fight knowing that the outcome will likely be the same. I understand that you already lost one husband and you feel like you’re cursed. I totally get that he’s out there and we got nothing. No clues. No leads. We’ve got no map and not a single direction.”
That summed up the devastating situation they found themselves in perfectly. “So what do you want me to do?”
Erin got in her face. “I want you to suck it the fuck up, sister, because it’s go time and there’s no crying in the bathroom until we have a body on our hands. Until I have visual confirmation that Murdoch is dead, he’s alive, and that means we have a chance to find him. I do not give up and I will not allow you to. It makes us look like pussies, and we both know pussies get a bad rap. So suck it up because I think they’re on the wrong track.”
Phoebe refused to back down. “And what track is it you think they should be on?”
Erin groaned and took a step back. “Fuck if I know. I’m the muscle here. You’re supposed to be the one with all the damn brains. I like to shoot people, not outthink them. Take two seconds to breathe and then clear your mind. If this were just a mission, what would you do?”
For the first time since she realized Jesse was gone, she took a deep breath and tried to banish her fear. Erin was getting to her, reminding her that there really was a job to do and that job wasn’t to worry. It was time to take action. “I would take stock of my resources.”
“Okay. What are our resources?”
“A couple of guns no one will resupply, four Agency trained operatives, two otherwise trained operatives. A little cash.”
“Don’t forget the nerd squad. I assume they can wire us cash if we need it. And Hutch has like fifteen pounds of candy, so we won’t starve. That dude is like made of sugar. And I’ve got enough bullets for Bertha to take out a good portion of this country. I also brought a sniper rifle, some C-4, and a dozen flashbangs.” Erin shrugged. “A girl likes to be prepared. So we can totally start a war if we want to.”
If Phoebe was running an Agency team, she would hire Erin in a heartbeat. “We have to figure out where to look. We can’t just start blind. What do we know about al Fareed?”
“One brother is still here. He’s at the conference according to Kamdar’s guys. It’s the older brother, Ibrahim. No sign of Hani.”
“That tells us nothing except they’re trying to keep up appearances.” Phoebe started to pace, her mind revving up. “Although if they’re smart, Hani will make an appearance, too.”
“He’s set to give a speech this evening. It would be news if he missed it.”
This was good. “He won’t. He’s too smart to skip that meeting. It gives him an alibi. So they’re potentially holding Jesse somewhere in Dubai. They’re set to go back to Saudi tomorrow afternoon. They need everything to go according to plan. They won’t take Jesse on that plane. They have to expect we’ll look for him.”
“I think they expect we’re all going home. At least the Agency types are going home. Do you think the Agency knows about me and Si?”
“Probably. I don’t know. Ten wouldn’t have told them. So how did they know?”
“Unless they have an operative here themselves.”
“Ten would have known.”
Erin stared at her, disbelief plain in her eyes. “I don’t think Tennessee is in the Agency loop anymore. You ask me, they’re going to take him down.”
“He still has friends there. He would have known if there was another team working this conference.” But there were other options. “He might not know if someone inside the Agency is feeding a civilian party information.”
“Another mole?”
Phoebe didn’t think so. “Al Fareed had to have had a contact. If he wasn’t Agency, then he’s likely someone connected politically.”
“I hate the spy shit. Give me someone to shoot any day of the week.” Erin sighed as she looked around the bedroom. “You and Murdoch do it on the couch?”
“No. Why is that any of your business?”
She sank down and spread out. “Because I do my best thinking sitting down, but I don’t want to get gross stuff all over me.”
Finally she could get the tiniest bit of revenge. “Oh, in that case, I totally lied to spare myself the embarrassment of admitting we did it everywhere. Bed, bathroom, shower, against the window that now has a gaping hole in it. And definitely on that couch.”
Erin popped back up and flipped her the finger. “You suck, Grant.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “I did that, too.” There wouldn’t be an inch of that hotel she wouldn’t associate with Jesse.
Not an inch. Or a room. She would remember the ballroom where she’d had to save him. It was the first time she’d really realized that she had something to give him past a few nights in bed. He’d needed her. If only she’d been a little quicker in getting rid of that douchebag…
The douchebag who claimed he was a spy. The best lies always had a grain of truth.
“Where’s the senator? More importantly, where’s his aide?”
“You talking about the asshat we tagged the other night?”
She’d forgotten about him in her haste to find al Fareed. “There’s a connection I’m not making here and it runs back further than we thought. We’ve always known The Collective had politicians in their pockets.”
Erin strode to the bathroom, turning on the water and scrubbing her hands. “I think I need to change clothes.”
“Are you OCD?”
She shrugged. “A little. I don’t like germs. They’re like predators waiting to take us down. The flu is like a battle in your own body and god, I hate mucus.”
“Pay attention, soldier. Eli Nelson worked for The Collective, more specifically, he worked against anything that might have disrupted big oil interests.” The pattern was suddenly right there. Oh, it was circumstantial, but she’d learned that the rules tended to apply to most mysteries, no matter what Hollywood’s twisty-turny movies would say. The easiest path between two points was a direct line.
She could draw that line. She just needed one little piece of information to make it all click.
Without another word to Erin, she walked out of the bedroom. The living area was a hum of activity. Simon and Hutch were both at laptops. Theo was moving luggage into the hallway, and Ten was on his cell.
“We have a situation. I explained that to you, you little piece of shit bureaucrat. Get me to the director. I don’t care what time it is.” Ten grimaced and brought the phone back down. “They won’t put me through.”
Theo stacked their equipment. “That’s not a good sign.”
Ten turned and his face softened when he saw her. “Hey. Why don’t you go lie down for a while, sweetheart? I’ll tell you if we find anything.”
Erin was right. She hated when Erin was right. Ten was going to treat her like she was made of glass. She wasn’t and she had to pull it together because she was not losing another man she loved. She wasn’t going to lose Jesse. Not without one hell of a fight.
She’d asked herself how long she would have to wait. She knew the answer. She wouldn’t wait at all. This time she was stronger. This time she would be the one searching. If she’d done anything wrong when Jamie died, it was leaving the fight to Ten. She was stronger than that, strong enough to search and never stop. If she was an old woman with a fucking cane, she would still look for her husband because Jesse would endure. He would trust her and find a way to survive.
Faith. She had to suck it the fuck up, as Erin so lovingly put it, and have a little faith.
“I’m not going back to bed. I need to see Ace’s file. I don’t care how the hell we get it. I’ll pay the nastiest hacker in the world to figure out who wrote his recommendation.”
“I am the nastiest hacker in the world, thank you very much,” a voice from her left said. “Turn me around, babe. I believe Hermione is impugning my reputation.”
Simon turned his laptop and Chelsea Weston glared out at her from the screen.
“You know calling me Hermione isn’t an insult,” Phoebe explained. “She was kind of badass.”
“Yeah, well, she was also in a kid’s book, so there’s that.”
She wasn’t ever going to win with Chelsea. “What do you have on Ace?”
Even through the screen, she could see the way Chelsea flushed. “They’ve purged his records. I need something else. I need somewhere to look. The Internet’s a big fucking place.”
“Politicians keep records.” She was taking a big step that would likely blow up in her face, but she had to do it. “I need you to hack into Senator Hank McDonald’s files.”
“Phoebe!” Ten put his phone down, staring at her in obvious shock. “You’re talking about a United States senator.”
And why wouldn’t he be shocked? She’d been the perfect little Agency soldier. She’d done everything she was to
ld, with the singular exception of ignoring the kill order on Jesse Murdoch. She played everything by the book because that’s the way her father taught her. But this wasn’t her father’s Agency anymore and she wasn’t going to let a man she loved die because she couldn’t take a chance.
“On it.” Chelsea’s eyes lit up and her hands flew across the keys.
Simon shook his head and took a long breath as though he was used to worrying about the NSA showing up at his house.
“Phoebe, do you know what they’ll do to you?” Ten asked quietly.
“I don’t care. He’s involved, Ten. I can feel it. He’s the connection. He’s the line between Eli Nelson and Hani al Fareed and The Collective.”
“He’s also a goddamn United States senator with the kind of pull you can’t even imagine.” Ten put his hands on her shoulders. “This is the kind of thing that gets an operative killed.”
“Then what are we fucking fighting for, Ten? He doesn’t get to use us. He doesn’t get to dishonor his vows and sell out his country. And as far as I can tell, we’re the only ones who can even try to stop him. If I’m right, he’s already cost me one husband. I won’t let him take another. I’ll take him down even if I have to go down with him.”
“Bingo. Son of a bitch has a file of recommendations,” Chelsea said. “Mostly it’s kids getting into military academies, but Ace Monroe is here. There’s no recommendation for the CIA job, but Ace’s father worked on McDonald’s campaign for Congress way back when. He wrote the recommendation that got Ace into the Air Force Academy. There’s your connection.” Chelsea winced. “He also has some e-mails to al Fareed. They date back years. He asks how al Fareed’s experiments are going. He knew what the fucker was doing. Phoebe, I think you’re right. There’s nothing here that would hold up in a court of law, but when you put it together, there’s only one logical conclusion.”