Marissa slammed into Olsen just as the first bullet struck the pavement. Thankful for the illegally parked car in front of them, she dragged the Guardian behind the vehicle while yelling for the MPD cop to take cover. Screaming ensued when spectators realized that someone was shooting at them.
“Shots fired at the corner of Dupont Circle and New Hampshire Avenue. I need backup now!” the officer said through his shoulder radio. Crouch walking to Marissa and Olsen, he demanded, “Who in Jesus Christ are you guys?”
“You don’t wanna know,” Marissa replied, wincing briefly when a shell casing struck her face. The car they were hiding behind was being raked by sniper bullets, and all they could do was wait it out. Low ground was a disadvantage and it would be suicide to return fire without knowing the location of your target.
Speaking of target, Marissa glanced around. Yusuf Ali was long gone.
“You’re bleeding, Ms. Cole,” Olsen reminded her to take a physical inventory of her injuries. Not that getting shot at after almost getting blown up was an everyday occurrence, but it did happen, more often than she liked.
“Flesh wound.” She glanced dispassionately at the rapidly soaking fabric of her jeans.
“The guy’s ballsy,” Marissa informed the cop. “Isn’t there a police station right across from us?”
“Damn right there is.”
A car screeched to a halt beside them.
Viktor. Nathan Stark was riding shotgun.
“Get in.” The AGS top man sounded pissed.
“You can’t leave,” the police officer protested.
“I’ll call you,” Marissa quipped as she dove into the back of the Charger, Olsen right behind her.
*****
Viktor resisted the urge to park the car, drag Marissa out, and blister her ass. Instead, he concentrated on navigating DC’s most notorious intersection. He’d not spoken a word to Marissa or Agent Olsen since they took refuge in his car, preferring to let Nathan deal with the women and handle the logistics of retrieving the AGS vehicle.
Marissa was bleeding, and she likely also had a concussion. There was nothing more that Viktor wanted to do than tend to her, but he was struggling even to get the words out, so he simply brooded.
“I double parked on T Street,” Olsen announced.
“I hope you locked the car,” Nathan muttered. “Ms. Cole, are you all right? Do we need to take you to the hospital?”
“I’ll live,” Marissa responded with a wince. Her eyes met Viktor’s in the rearview mirror. “I need to get to Langley.”
“Not happening.” Viktor spoke up for the first time.
“I need to report this.”
“Call it in.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, Viktor, my phone got incinerated in the car bomb.”
Viktor clenched his jaw. He’d nearly lost her. Again. Twice. The enemy was not hiding now. They were sending a strong message that they meant business. He punched a number on his Sec-phone.
“Yeager? It’s Baran.”
“Viktor, what can I do for you this morning?’
“Marissa can’t make it to your meeting.”
There was a pause and then, “And the reason?”
“She nearly got blown up in her car and shot down by a sniper this morning. Reason enough?”
“Christ! Is she okay?”
“Ask her yourself.” Viktor handed the phone to Marissa. He had a bigger issue to tackle right now—getting through T Street, which was currently being blocked by fire trucks and police cruisers. He cursed and made an illegal U-turn to head back on 19th Street to cut through S Street and get to Swann. He pulled up by the abandoned AGS vehicle, which was in the process of being written up by a uniform for a parking violation. “Take care of that, Stark—Olsen.”
Marissa made a move to follow Olsen.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Viktor gripped her arm to hold her back.
“Langley. I’m sure you can spare Olsen for a few hours. I might be able to commission a vehicle and send her back sooner.”
Viktor glared at her. She glared right back.
“I need to talk to Yeager,” Marissa pressed stubbornly.
“Fine. But Olsen’s not taking you. I am.”
Marissa’s eyes widened in surprise. “I thought you were tied up at AGS?”
“I was. I still am. But someone can’t stay out of trouble.”
“I’m not your problem.”
“Think again, sweetheart. Now, shut up.”
Marissa’s eyes narrowed at him. Viktor smothered a grin and stepped out of the Charger to take a gander at the chaos happening a couple of blocks up, where Marissa’s vehicle had been burning. “Stark.”
Nathan turned to him.
“Take care of Ms. Cole’s vehicle. Use one of our official covers to tidy up the paper work on that car.”
Nathan nodded and took off at a jog.
Marissa exited the Charger, but visibly steadied herself, gripping the roof of the vehicle.
“That’s it,” Viktor muttered. “You need a doctor. Forget Langley.”
“Don’t be silly,” Marissa said weakly, her eyes glazed over. Viktor was already rounding the vehicle. “I got blood on your precious car,” she added inanely before she took a crash.
Viktor caught her before she hit the asphalt. She was barely conscious, if not a bit loopy.
“How did I end up down here?”
“Let me see. Concussion?” Viktor said. “Possible blood loss?”
“No need to be sarcastic,” Marissa grumbled, snuggling closer to him.
“Oh, my God, what happened?” Olsen asked when she noticed Viktor bundling Marissa into the front passenger seat.
“My guess? Her adrenalin wore off,” Viktor replied. “I’m taking her back to HQ and having Henderson take a look at her. You got this?”
Not waiting for Olsen to acknowledge his question, he got into the car and drove off.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dwarves were pounding her skull with a pickaxe, as they maliciously refused to give her water. Marissa’s eyes popped open, thankful to discover that it was all a dream. But her mouth remained cottony and she found it a bit disconcerting that Dr. Henderson was peering down at her.
“How many fingers?”
“Three.” Marissa braced herself up on her elbows. “What’s the damage?”
“Surprisingly, inconsequential,” Henderson told her, ticking off boxes on a clipboard. “Considering what you’ve been through; a mild concussion, a few stitches, and bruising. You’re a lucky woman.”
Marissa could argue his opinion. Her joints felt out of whack. Her leg was burning where the bullet clipped her, and her hands felt raw.
“Few seconds more in your car, I could’ve been doing an autopsy on a charred body.”
“You’re a laugh a minute,” Marissa muttered and winced when she took in her attire—a hospital gown. “Um, is there something else I could wear?”
“Are you planning on going somewhere?”
“Yes. Back to work,” Marissa retorted.
“As your doctor, I strongly advise against it. But I’ve dealt with your kind long enough to know that you won’t listen anyway.” He handed her the clipboard. “Just sign under AMA.”
“Covering your bases, Doc?”
Henderson sighed. “I have to, especially with you clowns mucking around and acting like you’re invincible. Pierce is the worst offender, followed by Lockwood. Used to call them Disaster and Mayhem when they worked together.”
“I’m surprised Viktor didn’t top your list.”
Henderson paused. “Come to think of it, I don’t remember treating him.”
Marissa’s brow quirked up. “Ever?”
“You know,” Henderson said reflectively. “That man may truly be invincible.”
*****
Kyle Yeager regarded him through his reading glasses, giving the report at hand a purposeful flick of his wrist. Viktor informed the director of black
ops that if he wanted to speak to Marissa, he’d have to come to AGS, because no way in hell was Viktor taking her to Langley in her condition.
“This report is troubling,” Yeager said. “It’s a clear and present danger. If Russian and North Korean elements manipulate the conflict in Syria, we have even bigger problems. You’re saying there’s a link to Operation Smokescreen and Shadowland?”
“Yes. That’s why they’re eliminating agents involved in both operations,” Viktor replied.
“Cole was not involved in Shadowland.”
“No. But she was in Smokescreen. Shadowland was a parallel op we were running that linked North Korea to the deployment of the chemical weapons in Syria,” Viktor said.
“Shadowland was the mission where we extracted Jiro Matsuda for cooperating with the CIA,” Yeager mused.
“He gave us Min Kwon, the head of the NKUF. Taking out Min crippled the organization.”
“Are you saying they’re in play again?”
“One of their men was involved in the McCord abduction. It appears they’re regrouping and planning something nefarious. I have reason to believe that Min Kwon’s son is the new leader.”
“Stuart Kwon is a respectable businessman on the board of Exetron Oil Company in Russia. He denounced his father’s involvement with NKUF when everything came to light.”
“Have you checked attachment C?” Viktor lifted his chin indicating the document that Yeager was holding.
“Petrech Labs—”
“—is a subsidiary owned by Kwon,” Viktor said. “It’s fronting as a manufacturer of petroleum additives, but my sources tell me that they manufacture chemical weapons.”
“You think they’re the source of Syria’s chem weapons?” Yeager asked.
The door to Viktor’s office opened without warning. If it were any other person, he would have chewed their head off. But when Marissa stepped through, Viktor could only stare and wish that she was alone with him right now. She was garbed in AGS-issued cargos and shirt, looking pale, bruised, and pissed, yet still undeniably beautiful and vulnerable.
“I heard you guys started the meeting without me.”
“We weren’t expecting you to be up,” Yeager said. “How are you, Cole?”
“Been better,” Marissa replied. “What did I miss?”
“Have a seat, Ms. Cole,” Viktor said sternly. Marissa was worse than the energizer bunny. He handed her his copy of the report Yeager was holding. As she perused the information, he and Yeager exchanged some small talk about the Senate Intelligence Committee and how they’d been curtailing funding for CIA clandestine missions.
Viktor waited for the blowup. It didn’t take long.
“Daliyah Shadid was the mastermind of the Smokescreen chemical weapons?” Marissa almost shrieked as she stood up from her chair, glaring at Viktor accusingly. “You knew all along Rafiq’s mother was guilty and you led me to believe you killed her in cold blood.”
“We had another op we were protecting.”
“From us? The agents who worked with you? Trusted you?” Marissa voice was agitated, and Viktor frowned when she swayed a bit.
“Sit down, Ms. Cole.”
“Stop micromanaging me, Baran. I’ll stand if I want to.” Her green eyes were spoiling for a fight. “Was this operation Shadowland? What does Daliyah have to do with Min Kwon?”
“It’s a clusterfuck of a soap opera,” Viktor muttered. “Take notes, I’m not repeating myself because I’m not certain I could get it straight in my fucking head a second time. Daliyah’s mother had an affair with Min. They were together for a while. Daliyah and her mother lived in North Korea for a couple years, until the affair ended. Min Kwon and Daliyah’s mother had a son.”
“Wait.” Marissa sat down. “Are you telling me that Daliyah is the half-sister of Stuart Kwon?”
“Bingo.”
“That makes Stuart Kwon Rafiq Shadid’s uncle. Were the siblings close?”
“Don’t know yet.”
“Who would know?”
Viktor stared at Marissa for a few moments. His woman was going to gloat. He knew it even before he said the name. “Jiro Matsuda.”
A triumphant gleam wiped away the anger in her eyes. Marissa linked her hands primly on her lap. “Are you saying you’re contacting Mr. Matsuda now?”
“I have no choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Viktor,” Marissa replied. “You just have to make the right one.”
“The last one I made for Matsuda got his wife and daughter killed.”
“You didn’t know she had them at that time, Viktor,” Yeager said. “And the lives of hundreds were at stake. Matsuda never blamed you.”
“Daliyah had Matsuda’s wife and daughter abducted to keep him from talking to the CIA. Matsuda had evidence that the NKUF supplied the chemical weapons to Daliyah,” Viktor answered the question in Marissa’s eyes. “She was the only one who knew where they were. When Daliyah failed to check in with her men at the appointed time, they killed Matsuda’s family.”
“You shot her to get her husband—Mustafa Shadid—to tell you where the chemical weapons were,” Marissa said quietly. “You never had plans on shooting Rafiq, did you?”
“Had I known he would’ve turned into this murderous bastard, I probably would have.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“I never look back at would haves or should haves, Marissa,” Viktor stated flatly. “I make decisions, and hope to hell I could live with the consequences.”
*****
It was late in the afternoon when they returned to Viktor’s house. Marissa had gotten dizzy after the meeting with Yeager and had to lie down for a bit at the medical bay. She wasn’t sure if it was due to her concussion, or due to the information overload from Viktor’s impressive report. Two parallel ops: Smokescreen and Shadowland. Both coming back to bite them in the ass. Was it simply a thirst for revenge or was there a bigger threat they had yet to identify?
“You okay, kitten?” Viktor whispered in her ear, leading her to the bed and slowly undressing her. His eyes darkened with a strange emotion as he took in the bruises on her body. Her right shoulder was still throbbing and her back was agonizingly sore. Henderson said she was lucky that she rolled off the hood of a car; otherwise, she would be faced with broken bones.
“I’m craving a hot bath.”
He helped her into her robe. “Wait here. I was going to run you one anyway.”
“Viktor,” Marissa grabbed his hand and his eyes shifted to hers questioningly. “I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
“All those years ago, I accused you of having no heart. Of being a monster.”
His jaw clenched. “You didn’t have all the facts. I get it.”
“Couldn’t you have told me afterward? I checked my clearance. You could’ve told me after Shadowland went down.”
“The damage was done, Marissa. Bottom line, you didn’t give me the benefit of the doubt.”
“How could I give you the benefit of the doubt when I didn’t know that I didn’t have all the facts?” Her voice pitched higher.
“Should’ve trusted me, maybe?” Viktor shot back. “When you threw me out of your house, I was beyond pissed. But it didn’t matter, don’t you see? You had this idealistic view of what was right and wrong. How long did it take you to figure out that there are shades of gray, huh? I busted your bubble prematurely, sweetheart. You hadn’t even had your first kill when we were together, Marissa. While I—” he jabbed a thumb to his chest “—I’ve lost tracked of how many people I’ve shot, blown up, or torn apart with my bare hands.”
“Stop it!” Marissa hissed.
“Why? Can’t hear the truth? I kill people, Marissa. And now, so do you. Collateral damage. Know what that is? Are you familiar with it now? That not all people who die are guilty, that some of them are innocent, but they have to die to save others.”
“We try to protect the innocent,” Marissa started.
&nb
sp; “Oh, for fuck’s sake—”
“We. Try,” she repeated. “But sometimes, it’s beyond our control.”
“Finally, she gets it—”
“Stop being so sarcastic about it—”
“It only took you eight years—”
“It did not take me eight years—”
“Took you eight to come back to me.”
“I didn’t come back to you. You came to me. I didn’t want anything to do with you again, remember?”
“You’re in denial—”
“I am not in denial. Check your ego at the door, will you? You’re not God’s gift to women, Viktor.”
“Want me to prove it?”
“Oh, for God’s sake, weren’t you going to run me a bath?”
Instead of heading to the bathroom, Viktor crouched down in front of her. The intensity of his gaze made her uncomfortable, but she couldn’t look away.
“Tell me, sweetheart, do you regret getting back together?”
“I’m not exactly sure what we are, to tell you the truth.”
“You mean—are we just fucking?”
Marissa winced at his words, but said, “Uh, yeah. Crude as that sounds. Are we just sexual partners blowing off steam because we have to work together anyway?”
“Do you feel that way?”
“I asked you first.”
Viktor’s eyes grew stormy. His face hardened, and his gravelly voice, when he spoke, was measured and controlled. “I feel things for you, Marissa. I realized that today. I don’t know what it means. I’m not sure I like it. But I’d rather have those feelings than lose you again. So while I’m dealing with it, I ask only that you allow me to blunder through it. I may not always say or do the right thing, but I’m sure you’ll have no problem letting me know.”
Despite his not-so-romantic declaration, Marissa’s heart soared with hope. “Viktor—”
He smirked. “And before I say something totally out of character, I’m going to go run your bath.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead, stood up, and headed to the bathroom.
*****
He carried a half-conscious Marissa to the bathroom and gently lowered her into the hot water-filled tub. Her green eyes, cat-like in depth and shape, opened briefly. Her cupid bow lips tipped up at the corners in a smile, and a satisfied moan deep in her throat caused his cock to twitch. She loved her baths; Viktor knew this for a fact. And he had no problem indulging her or joining her. He lightly gathered her hair in a messy knot and cursed himself for not taking care of this sooner. Now the ends of her hair were wet. At least he had the sense to wrap her injured leg in a waterproof bandage.
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