“Thank you,” she murmured.
He bent to kiss her cheek. “You’re welcome, baby,” he said, uncaring that his teammates were studying him closely. He kept a hand on her hip as he stood behind her and met Cage’s gaze evenly. “The story is that Hunter Halliday is dead, which you already know. He was murdered in Hong Kong two nights ago, though the media still hasn’t picked it up yet. Mendez tasked me to Ian Black, who sent me to infiltrate Halliday’s household and find out who he was working with on the military deal.” He’d explained the basics of that deal to Viking earlier, and he knew his team leader had informed everyone else. “I didn’t get that information. All I know is that Halliday owed money to a triad and the boss came to collect. His name is Shan—but whether or not he’s the one who ordered the hit, I don’t know.”
“So we don’t know who killed Halliday or why. Or precisely who is after Quinn.”
“Nope, we don’t know either of those things.” There was a bounty on her head, but they didn’t know who had issued it. Yet. “Quinn has access to Halliday’s money, at least until the news of his death goes public and the estate gets involved. Someone looking for what they’re owed might come after her to get it.”
“I take it there were no transfers before Halliday’s death?”
“None that Black’s people could see. Which means the triad didn’t get what they were looking for. Now either they’ve written that money off and they’re using Halliday’s death as an example of what happens when you don’t pay up, or they didn’t pull the trigger and they still want what’s owed.”
The doorbell rang just then, and every SEAL in the room shifted into high alert. So did Viking’s DEA agent wife Ivy and CIA operative Miranda.
“Expecting anyone?” Viking asked softly.
“Nope,” Ivy said. “Could be a kid selling stuff for school.”
“Yeah, could be. Except school’s out right now, so that’s not the most likely explanation.”
“No, probably not,” she replied. “Unless you ordered more of those BBQ supplies you’re always looking at online.”
Viking frowned. “I didn’t. But you love when I smoke ribs.”
“I do indeed. Order all you like.”
“All righty, then,” Viking said. “Guess I’ll go answer it.”
They were all quiet as Viking headed toward the front door. Blade exchanged glances with his teammates. Most likely it was nothing, but they were trained to think of worst-case scenarios. Made them seem paranoid to an outsider, but it was the job to always consider what might happen.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Viking said, his voice drifting back to them. “What do you want?”
The answer didn’t reach them, but the door shutting did. Viking came striding back into the room. And Ian Black walked in behind him.
“Hello, kids,” Black said cheerfully. “What a lovely gathering.”
“Speak of the devil,” Cage murmured.
Cowboy shifted his stance and looked annoyed. Out of all of them, probably Cage and Cowboy were the two with the most reason to dislike Ian Black. He hadn’t done them wrong, but he’d definitely played a part when their women were in danger.
“I have to assume there’s a reason you’re here,” Viking said. “Care to enlighten us?”
“What, no offer of a beverage?”
“Would you like a drink?” Ivy asked, smiling sweetly.
“No thanks,” Ian said. “But I appreciate your asking.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Cash “Money” McQuaid grumbled. His wife, Ella, squeezed his arm and said something in his ear. It didn’t stop the grumbling, but Cash didn’t say anything else that was audible to the rest of them.
“How are you today, Mrs. Halliday?” Ian asked.
“I’m fine, thanks. How about you?”
“Peachy.” He let his gaze slide over the group of them. “I knew you’d all get involved. Just remember this isn’t officially your op, okay? You don’t want to cause any grief for your soon-to-be General Mendez.”
No, they definitely didn’t.
“Is this a social call or what?” Cage finally growled out.
Ian folded his arms over his chest. He was a tall man, well-muscled, with the kind of suaveness that spoke more of board rooms than combat. And yet he was a warrior down to his core. Blade had seen it in action more than once, and he’d heard tales from Alpha Squad too. Ian Black was no pushover.
“Not a social call. Halliday wasn’t killed on Shan’s orders. I’ve got a source in the triad, and he’s reporting that Shan is pissed and losing his shit right about now. Halliday owed him around thirty million, give or take a few bucks for the vig—that’s interest if you don’t know.”
Quinn gasped.
Ian zeroed in on her. “Yes, Mrs. Halliday, your husband was deep in debt to Chinese mobsters. And they aren’t the only ones. There might not be a Halliday Tech Solutions left after this is all over, I’m sorry to say.”
Quinn folded her hands in her lap and straightened her spine. Blade could feel the strength rolling through her as she dug down deep.
“I don’t care for me, but there are people who depend on Hunter for their jobs. I care about what’s going to happen to them. And Hunter’s son. He would have inherited the business someday.”
“Not today,” Ian said. “Hunter changed his will about a month ago. He gave a controlling interest to you. You’re in charge of HTS, Mrs. Halliday.”
Blade felt her body go stiff. “That can’t be right. Hunter didn’t think very highly of my intelligence, so he wouldn’t leave me a controlling interest in his company.”
“He would if he were angry with his son. And if he didn’t actually expect to die but only wanted to use it as a club to control Darrin.”
Quinn was trembling. “Yes, he would do that,” she said quietly. “That is very much how he operated.”
“Well, then. Congratulations, Mrs. Halliday, because you are now the majority shareholder in HTS, however long it lasts.”
“You just said the company was going broke,” Blade grumbled. “This can’t be a good thing for Quinn.”
“Probably not, no. But it’s hers to deal with for the moment. And the news is about to hit the wires.”
“Well, hell,” someone said.
“I don’t want it,” Quinn replied, sounding the slightest bit desperate. “I’ll sign it all over to Darrin. He can deal with it.”
“You can’t. Your husband thought of everything, as petty tyrants usually do. No transfers of shares for one year, and nothing without board approval.”
“Can he do that?”
“Maybe not, but it’d take time to challenge it in court. HTS is a privately owned company. They don’t have to play by the same rules as publicly traded companies do.”
“Okay,” Blade said. “So Quinn is the majority stakeholder in HTS. Her step-son is presumably the second-biggest stakeholder. Shan didn’t order Halliday’s death, which means someone else did—and Shan still wants his thirty million. Plus Halliday was in debt to countless other people we still don’t know about, and the company might go belly up. Any more good news today?”
Ian tilted his head slightly and smiled. “We’re no closer to getting evidence about any backdoor coding in those computers.”
“Awesome,” Blade said. “Just awesome.”
“Texas,” Quinn said, and Blade walked around to see her face. She was nibbling her lip, her delicate brows drawn down in a frown as she concentrated on something.
“Texas?” Blade asked.
She lifted her gaze to his. “The Texas house. That was our main residence. Halliday Tech Solutions has offices in many locations, but Dallas is the headquarters. Hunter had a setup kind of like in Hong Kong, but he had cameras and sound. He also recorded all his phone calls. Insurance, he told me once. If he kept those recordings, they’re on the hard drive in his control room.”
Ian Black pushed his way to Blade’s side, standing in front of Quinn and gazing down
at her with barely suppressed excitement. “He recorded his calls? You’re sure?”
“Oh yes. He recorded them sometimes in other houses, but the recordings all went to Texas. He was rather obsessive about it.”
“Can you give me a floor plan of the house?” Ian asked.
Quinn frowned. “I could, but it won’t do you any good. You need me to get in. Hunter’s security there is tight, and they aren’t letting you in.”
“They don’t have to let us in,” Blade said. “Breaking in and neutralizing the opposition is kind of what we do.”
“Yes, but why? If we fly down there, I can walk right in with a few of you at my side. I’ll dismiss the security staff. Then I’ll show you where the room is and you can get what you need.”
“It’s not a bad idea,” Ian said.
Blade didn’t like it. “It exposes her. We don’t know who might be waiting for her to return.”
“That’s true, but she’ll be walking in with a SEAL team at her side.”
“As much as I’d like to do that,” Viking cut in, “I don’t think we can. We’re still, uh…” He looked at Quinn, who didn’t know about the secret organization they were assigned to. Blade could see the moment Viking’s fuck-it meter pegged. He’d decided that Quinn was one of them now. “We’re still HOT, and HOT isn’t involved in this one.”
Ian turned with a smile on his face. “Then you’ll just have to join Black’s Bandits, won’t you?” He pulled out his phone. “Lemme just call Johnny and get that done.”
“Dude, seriously, you think Mendez is going to pen-stroke us onto your books for a mission?”
Ian’s face turned deadly serious and cool. “Yeah, froggie, I do.”
Chapter Nineteen
They took Ian Black’s private plane to Texas. Hunter had a plane too, but so far as Quinn knew, it was still in Hong Kong. Before they’d left the DC area, Ian had suggested she needed to go shopping. She’d looked down at her leggings and sneakers and realized he was right. Mrs. Halliday was elegant and poised, and she needed that poise if she was to walk into the Texas estate with a SEAL team and tell the security staff to stand down.
So a trip to the private airfield where the plane waited also encompassed a side trip to an expensive and exclusive boutique. Quinn had half expected her credit cards to be declined, but the charges sailed through and she soon had an expensive designer outfit complete with shoes and handbag.
She’d also stopped for makeup, though she decided to skip the jewelry. She had the diamond earrings and necklace she always wore, both modest, and she’d tucked her wedding ring into her purse before she’d escaped with Blade. She’d done it because it was expensive and it was hers—and she was practical enough to think she might need to sell it. She slipped it on, shivering a little at the feel of it on her finger. Her stomach roiled, but she could handle that.
She drew in a deep breath and mentally prepared herself for strolling into the Texas house. She hadn’t expected to inherit a controlling interest in HTS. And she still wasn’t sure she actually believed it. Just because Ian Black thought he knew what was in Hunter’s will didn’t mean he really did.
But Hunter had been a manipulative bastard, and controlling his son by threatening him with the loss of the company would have been just his style. So who knew if it was real or not, but it was certainly possible.
When the plane landed in Texas, a black stretch Hummer limo waited on the tarmac. Plenty of room for her and the nine men accompanying her. Yes, nine. Ian had made his phone call while the extremely large and menacing men in that kitchen watched him with barely disguised hostility.
And when he was done, he’d put the phone on speaker. A man’s deep, gravelly voice had come on the line and informed the team they were off the books for the time being. She didn’t know what that meant, but apparently it was good news for Ian because he looked smug.
She’d studied Blade, waiting for some enlightenment, but he’d merely shrugged and put his arm around her. After a few arrangements and the side trip, they’d met at the plane and boarded. Ian had been there to see them off, but he hadn’t accompanied them.
Now Blade escorted her down the steps of the plane and onto the tarmac. She cursed the Louboutins she’d purchased for their narrow design and for making her feet ache. Beautiful shoes, but why the man couldn’t make them a tad bit wider she did not know.
The men waited at the bottom of the steps for her, fanned out like an honor guard for the queen. They’d changed into suits for the occasion, and they all had the headsets like her prior bodyguards had worn. She knew they were armed as well because there was no way this group of badass men wasn’t packing a lot of heat.
She walked on Blade’s arm to the Hummer and climbed inside. He got in beside her. The men piled inside as well, taking up all the room. No one opened the minibar or acted at all like this was a fun time.
Just as the vehicle started to move, her phone began to ring. It shocked her because the only people who ever called were her parents or Hunter. She stared at the number she did not recognize, her heart hammering as a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her skin. She lifted her gaze to Blade’s.
“I don’t know who it is.”
He took the phone and tapped the screen. “This is Mrs. Halliday’s assistant. What can I do for you?”
She blinked at him, watching him frown. “No, Mrs. Halliday is not giving interviews. Thank you.”
He stabbed at the screen and gave the phone back to her. It rang again. She stared at it, then lifted her gaze to Blade’s. “What now?”
He reached over and tapped the button to send it to voice mail. “That’s all you can do, Quinn. I’m afraid the media has the story.”
“Well, we knew it would happen.”
He took her hand and squeezed. “Yeah, we did.”
“They won’t stop now,” she said.
“No, they probably won’t.”
“Time to buck up and play the grieving widow, I suppose.”
“Yeah, probably so.”
She looked at the men sitting on the seats lining the sides of the Hummer. They were grim and serious. But they made her feel safe. If she hadn’t met them in Viking’s kitchen, if she hadn’t met their women… Well, maybe she’d feel differently. As it was, she was glad they were here.
“Thank you all for coming,” she said even though it felt kind of silly to say it. They were here for something important, not for her. But it didn’t matter, because she knew they would protect her anyway.
They all glanced at Blade and then back at her as if they were joined at the hip. It would have been comical if the situation wasn’t so serious. “You’re one of us now,” Viking said. “We’ll always be here for you.”
She was overwhelmed with gratitude. These men had only just met her and they made her feel like she belonged. Like they were a tribe. She’d never had that with Hunter, and she knew now that she should have.
Blade lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You got this, baby. I’m behind you all the way.”
She sucked in a breath. “All right then, gentlemen. Let’s go in there and get those recordings. And pray they’re what you need.”
Hunter Halliday’s Texas estate was magnificent, of course. Over ten thousand square feet with a long circular driveway and automatic gates that opened once the Hummer rolled up and the guard came to the window. Blade had let it down and waited for the man to arrive. His expression changed when he saw Quinn.
“Mrs. Halliday. Welcome home.”
“Thank you, Chris.”
The gates opened and the Hummer passed inside. When they reached the front of the house, a man waited. The guard would have called ahead to let the household staff know Quinn was here, of course.
Blade opened the door and stepped out, then turned to help Quinn. Her hand pressed into his, small and hot and trembling. He squeezed to let her know it was going to be okay. Her gaze met his and her expression hardened as if she was telling herself to b
e strong.
“Mrs. Halliday,” the man at the door said.
“Hello, Miguel. How are you?”
“I’m well, Mrs. Halliday. I have seen the news. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Quinn dropped her gaze as if trying to maintain her calm. “Thank you, Miguel. It’s a shock for us all.”
They’d listened to the news on the way over. The reports were that Hunter Halliday had died of a massive heart attack. Ian Black’s work, no doubt. It was far better than the world hearing that an American billionaire had been murdered in Hong Kong. The president would know the truth, as would the heads of US intelligence agencies. But there were some things you did not let be publicly known if at all possible. For the good of international relations, it was better that way.
“I’ve brought my own security,” Quinn said. “With the uncertainty caused by Hunter’s death, I feel it’s best to protect myself until things are settled.”
Miguel’s dark eyes gleamed. Then he bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Of course, Mrs. Halliday.”
The SEALs piled from the Hummer. They weren’t wearing their typical tactical gear, but they still looked menacing. Dark suits, earpieces, weapons beneath jackets. Neo carried a backpack with a computer. Dirty had a duffel with equipment they might need for busting into Hunter’s office.
And they were all, every one of them, capable of taking down any security forces that Hunter might have without firing a shot. It just remained to be seen whether or not they would need to.
Miguel’s eyes widened at the sight of them all. But he wisely refrained from trying to prevent them from entering the house behind Quinn. Her heels tapped relentlessly against the marble of the soaring entryway. There was a grand curving staircase on either side of the room, and the ceilings were at least twenty feet tall.
Miguel came in behind them and stopped.
Quinn turned to face him. “I’m sending my staff to Hunter’s office to secure his files. You can tell your men to stand down.”
The man seemed to think about it for a moment. His shoulders tensed, his eyes darted over them—and then he shrugged. “Mr. Halliday is dead. You’re the boss now.” He took his phone from his pocket and made a call. “Mrs. Halliday is on her way up. Give her what she needs.”
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