Maverick

by Lora Leigh

  The camera he’d installed just across from the elevator on Risa’s floor ensured him the opportunity to at least keep track of her comings and goings.

  She didn’t leave often. Traffic was amazingly light for the past few days. Risa’s lover was keeping her fairly close to home. Other than a night out at a club, they had stayed inside.

  Mr. Sloane was on alert. He was a SEAL, which meant he could be a problem if Orion didn’t play his cards right.

  He smiled at the thought. He had several aces, and he would play them.

  Tonight was a swanky party she was to attend. A small ball for a scientist coming in from Germany. Orion almost laughed at the thought of it. The moment she saw his employer, all shit was going to hit the fan, and he knew it. He could feel it. And he had planned for it.

  This was much better, he assured himself as the painkiller began to ease the ache in his foot. A man couldn’t plan his pinnacle job before retirement while in pain. He might miss something, or he could misjudge his timing. Orion couldn’t allow that.

  In the past days he’d had to rework his original plan just a bit, but he was confident he could make it work. Whistling silently at the thought, he pulled up his e-mail and let a smile curl his lips.

  Contacts. It was all in the contacts a man made throughout his lifetime and what he knew about them.

  In the secured in-box was the e-mail he had been awaiting since beginning this assignment. The security code he needed to get inside.

  He pulled up the e-mail, memorized the code, and then deleted it.

  Soon. Another day or so and he could make his move.

  This plan was much better than the last one, and it would afford him the security he had dreamed of having in his retirement.

  He had even chosen the perfect little island to buy. It was nearly deserted; the previous owner had built a rather imposing mansion on the single mountain that graced it. The lagoon was the only access to the island. The cliffs that ringed it would make it impossible to breach any other way.

  Orion would be safe there. He could play all he wished.

  And Orion did so like to play.

  He sighed at the thought of retirement. He wouldn’t miss his job, he told himself. He’d grown bored with the ease of each assignment. There was no challenge anymore. Until this one, his final job, everything had come so easy to him. Defeat wasn’t even a thought.

  Until that SEAL had pinned his foot with a bullet.

  Orion chuckled at the thought of the man. Micah Sloane. He still didn’t have enough information on the SEAL. He had definitely been in the Middle East, though. A little hack and look-see into security command in Iraq assured Orion of that. But even more, he had a few strings there he could pull. He’d called a certain friend who was aware of any and every SEAL that came through. Mac Knight. The bastard had a hell of a name. Orion had established that connection through a friend of Mac’s during one of his leaves several years before.

  A friendly little call a few hours before had yielded quite enough information to assure Orion that his SEAL was no more than a SEAL. And not even one as effective as Orion had feared.

  It seemed Micah Sloane was in a bit of trouble with his commanders because of insubordination. He might not even be a SEAL for much longer.

  Yes, connecting with Knight had been a hell of a thought at the time. A man never knew when he would need information on a mission in the Middle East or a particular soldier. And Orion had arranged it so the somber Mr. Knight would owe him enough favors that he couldn’t exactly say no. It had paid off. Especially when Orion and his employer were required to travel there occasionally.

  Orion breathed in with satisfaction.

  Micah Sloane wouldn’t be a problem here. It was all in the timing and in the execution.

  Orion pulled up his most recent picture of Mr. Sloane and Risa Clay. She had a pretty little glow about her. She was a woman being well loved, Orion mused. And Sloane was obviously enamored of her.

  Beside Sloane’s picture was another picture. The face recognition program Orion used had consistently pulled up David Abijah’s face when the picture was placed in the search criteria.

  He tapped his fingers against the bed. Micah Sloane couldn’t be two different men, could he?

  Orion pursed his lips and shook his head. It shouldn’t be possible. He was going to assume it wasn’t possible, simply because he was very well aware of the guilt that raged inside him over the Abijah family.

  Then, he pulled up the picture of his employer and grimaced.

  Hurry. Hurry. It was the daily demand fracturing Orion’s nerves. He was going to hurry. It would end this week.

  He pulled up the picture of his little island. Yes, by the middle of next week he’d be having fun in the sun. It was all coming together just as he had always dreamed.

  JORDAN ANSWERED his cell phone on the first ring.

  “It’s Knight.” The major’s voice was a furious growl across the line. “The call came.”

  Jordan smiled. He’d known it. The moment he’d realized the threat Knight was to this particular operation, Jordan had known to pull him in.

  “The name I know him by is Paul Blade,” Knight stated. “He’s CIA. Came through on a mission with another group a few years ago. A few months later he was in a little bar we had set up on base. We had a few drinks, talked shop. Couple of weeks later he started smuggling whisky in for me. My brand. He called in the favor tonight. Wanted to know about a SEAL named Micah Sloane. I gave him what you gave me.”

  “He was able to track you down in the states. Interesting,” Jordan mused. “When do you return to duty?”

  “Four weeks, and I want in on this,” he stated, his voice cold. “If he’s Orion, then Risa is in more trouble than you thought, Malone. The guys he went in with on that mission say he’s bad damned news. They were all scared as hell of him, and they were some tough-assed mothers.”

  Jordan grunted at that. “Give me stats. I’ll contact my source and see if I can get an ID on him.”

  “Last time I saw him, I’d guess forty or older, probably closer to forty-five. Stocky but muscular. A mustache and goatee sprinkled with gray. Shaven head. Broad face. His eyes were a little narrow, a little longer than normal. He gives off a very professorial air. Studied bastard.”

  Jordan nodded as he made notes. “His cover was Paul Blade?” he verified.

  “Definitely a cover,” Mac said firmly. “He’s deep cover, too. I knew his handler for a while before he was killed. I mentioned Paul to him once and his expression was very uneasy. Told me to steer well damned clear of him.”

  “And did you?”

  “Hell, Malone, I steer well damned clear of everyone. You know where I’m stationed. All I see are the teams going out or coming in. Not a lot of chances to get into trouble there.”

  No truer words were ever said. And what a stroke of fucking luck. “Get over here,” Jordan decided. “I’m not going to risk tipping him off. We have pictures taken of every figure that’s passed the apartment building or entered it. We have stacks of the damned things here as well as pictures of everyone Risa associates with or will associate with. Let’s see if you can ID him for us.”

  “On my way,” Mac promised.

  “Use the stairs, not the elevator,” Jordan warned him. “We know there’s a security camera there that’s been wirelessly hijacked several times. We’re trying to get a GPS on the signal, but he haven’t managed it. We have more intel coming in and might have to move fast.”

  The line disconnected as Jordan lifted his head and grinned at Tehya where she watched the monitors trained on Risa’s apartment door.

  “Bingo.” He grinned with a show of teeth. “He contacted Knight wanting intel on Micah. Knight’s done drinks with him, talked to him. He’s in the bag.”

  Tehya’s brow lifted. “Counting your chickens, Jordan?” she asked cynically.

  He couldn’t help but laugh at her reply. “Praying the chickens are laying is more li
ke it.” He pushed his fingers through his hair and repeated the prayer that the eggs all dropped in one place and that he was there to crack them.

  “Call in backup. Let’s get a game plan together. Whoever he is, he’s CIA. That explains the leak in Russia. It also explains his employer’s ability to track investigations against him. A sweet little network, don’t you think?”

  “Very sweet,” she agreed, her chin propped in her hand as she continued to watch the monitors.

  Jordan glanced at them, then back at her. “Call in the backup, Tehya.”

  She rolled her eyes, pulled out her cell phone, and made the call, all without taking her eyes off the door to Risa’s apartment.

  “What the hell do you see?” He frowned at the monitors, then back at her.

  “A casualty,” she sighed, and shook her head before turning her gaze to Jordan. “Are you going to tell him he doesn’t have to leave her?”

  Jordan stilled and stared back at her. “He has no choice but to leave,” he told her, his voice turning cold. “You know the rules. He’s dead. His life is property of the Elite Ops.”

  “Noah has a wife, a child,” she said softly. “Morale is going to seriously suck around here if Micah has to leave her.”

  “He’s a dead man,” Jordan reminded her. “He knew what he was doing when he signed those papers. Noah’s case is different. It always was and they’ve always known that.”

  She shook her head. “Big mistake, boss. Very, very big mistake.”

  He waited until she rose from her chair and turned her back on him before he let a grin twitch at his lips. They’d see whose mistake it was, and Jordan was betting it wasn’t his.

  CHAPTER 23

  RISA STARED AT the gown laid out on the bed, then lifted her gaze to Micah.

  “You should have warned me,” she said carefully. She was furious. He had sprung the information that she had to attend the ball on her. Micah had merely stated they were going; he hadn’t given her the option of refusing.

  “You’ve avoided this party every year that you’ve received an invitation,” he stated. “Why?”

  “Because I don’t like doctors,” she said between clenched teeth. “Maybe a better way of saying it is that I despise the bastards. I can barely tolerate my own. How’s that?”

  “Not a good enough reason.” His smile was tight and cool, his black eyes flat and hard. “But no one else will expect you to be there either, especially the doctor determined to kill you.”

  It was his determined expression, and she was growing to highly dislike it. It usually did not bode well for her.

  “You’re trying to force me into remembering who did it,” she said angrily. “You’re trying to make me identify him.”

  “Identify your rapist and we identify Orion when we question him. The most elite of the medical field in the world will be at these parties. Orion’s employer and your rapist was rumored to be one of the most advanced scientific minds in the world. He’ll be there.”

  “Then why should I be there?” Risa could feel the panic building in her chest, along with the fear. She avoided doctors like the plague, just as she avoided anyone who had been associated with Jansen Clay. “You said it yourself; all you have to do is capture Orion. He’ll tell you who his employer is.”

  “Or vice versa,” he said quietly. “If we identify the scientist quickly, then he can’t escape if he’s not American.”

  “He’s American.” The words burst from her lips before she even realized the truth of them.

  “You’re remembering more.” He stood across from her, watching her closely. “What have you remembered since the dream, Risa?”

  She pushed her fingers through her hair as she turned from him, tightening them in the strands as she fought against the fear trying to overwhelm her.

  “I don’t want to go to this party,” she breathed in roughly. “You can’t make me go.” She swung around to face him again, glaring back at him fiercely.

  “No.” He shook his head. “I can’t force you to go, Risa. But if you let fear control you, then you’re never going to have the life you’ve dreamed of having.”

  “What do you know about my dreams?” she charged him, her voice rough. “As far as you know, Micah, I don’t have a single dream.”

  His lips quirked in an oddly sad curve. “I know you dream, Risa. You have the pictures and plans of the home you want one day. It even has a white picket fence around it. You keep the picture on your desk. I know you don’t splurge in your money, but you want to. You want the pretty, sexy clothes, but you’re afraid to wear them. I know you dream of a family. A husband and children.” Something flamed in his eyes then; some emotion flashed across his face that she couldn’t decipher.

  “Every woman’s dreams.” She shrugged his perception off.

  “You want to go to the desert,” his voice lowered. “You want to feel the caress of a breeze that feels as though it’s come from the sun itself.”

  She turned away from him. That dream had come to her in the middle of the night as she heard him describe Israel to her. But it was only a part of the dream. She dreamed of being by his side as she felt it.

  “You need to do this, Risa. You need to take your life back. Are you going to let Orion or the man that tormented you rule your dreams and hold them back forever?”

  She hated his logic. She hated that look in his eyes, the one that said he knew she would do what she needed to when she wasn’t so certain herself.

  She looked at the evening gown again. It was simply gorgeous. The dark gold and bronze beaded color shimmered beneath the light. There were bronze heels and a small clutch purse. There were even bronze panties.

  The fabric of the dress shimmered with the tiny beads as it ran from dark gold and bronze, steadily darkening to a rich, vibrant black at the hem. It looked as though it glittered with stardust.

  “You definitely intend to make me stand out,” she murmured.

  “A woman learning her own sexuality and her effect on her lover would want to stand out,” he said, his voice dark, rough. “A woman of your courage, healing from the trauma you suffered, would become bold, adventurous, when her lover encouraged it in her.”

  “You’re daring me,” she sighed. “I hear it in your voice.”

  “Daring you to live?” he asked. “Yes, Risa, that’s exactly what I’m doing. I’m daring you to live.”

  She wrapped her arms across her breasts and stared at the dress again.

  “And if I break down?” She couldn’t look at him now. “If I see him, know him, and I break down?”

  “I won’t let you break down. You’ll hold on to me. You will know you’re safe, in my care, and protected, Risa. You won’t break down. You’ll tell me who you suspect, and later he’ll be investigated and questioned. That simple. And he’ll break. Then it will all be over.”

  Just as Bailey had broken, Micah thought sadly. His cousin was currently resting in a secured location. Jordan was reluctant to call her director now. The news that Orion was CIA changed many of the team’s options in regards to the assignment.

  Bailey hadn’t broken easily. It had taken her longer to break than it had during her training. She had fought the drugs, she had cursed Travis. But in the end, she had revealed what she knew and why she was there.

  She was definitely there for Orion, but only because she believed her cousin, David Abijah, would be tracking him. She was searching for her last blood relation. The one she had never believed to be dead.

  His past was coming back to bite him on the ass, he thought as he watched Risa run her fingers down the shimmering material of the gown.

  She nodded slowly. “What time do we leave?”

  “We leave here at eight along with Tehya and Jordan. We’ll meet your grandmother, along with her escort, and Ian and Kira at the hotel where the ball is being held.”

  “A matter of hours,” she murmured. “You didn’t give me much of a head start, did you?”

  Mica
h moved around the bed then. His hands cupped her shoulders as he turned her to him.

  “I didn’t give you time to worry over things that you shouldn’t worry over,” he said quietly. “You have time to dress. There will be a buffet dinner at the ball if you’re hungry.”

  She shook her head; the multi-hued streaks of silken blond colors rippled around her shoulders. “I won’t be hungry.”

  “Risa.” He lifted one hand from a shoulder and cupped her cheek.

  Raising her head, he stared into her worried eyes.

  “Do you believe I’ll protect you?”

  She nodded. “You won’t let him take me.”

  “I won’t let him take you,” he promised. “We’re going to make this work, you and I. And you’re going to shine at that ball like the beautiful, vibrant woman you are.”

  “Beautiful to you,” she whispered.

  “Beautiful, period.” He stroked his thumb over her lips. “You are pure beauty, Risa. And tonight, you’re my woman. My beauty. The woman who holds my entire attention.”

  It was no less than the truth. She held every fiber of his soul.

  “I need to shower.” She inhaled deeply, but her face was still pale, her expression tinged with fear.

  How had she survived? he asked himself as she pulled away from him and headed to the bathroom. How had she endured the past eight years and still managed to retain that air of innocence and unaware beauty?

  She wasn’t cynical. She wasn’t a coward. She was facing her fear, her demons, and the danger surrounding her with a grace that amazed him.

  Breathing out roughly, he flipped open his cell phone and placed a call to Jordan.

  “Yes?” Jordan answered on the first ring.

  “She’s agreed to go,” he stated.

  “Good,” Jordan murmured. “We have everyone in place. Mac Knight secured an invitation as well. He’ll let me know if he sees Orion. We have the information Bailey gave us on the doctor. It was scant. American, broad, large hands, according to a few reports of surviving victims. But she did remember the names of several doctors that the Russian double agent had been in contact with. James Walters was one of them. We managed to get confirmation from our contact, the man we suspect is Orion’s handler, that he has made plans to attend the party tonight. Everything will be in place.”