Shea nodded. “Yes, she has family in the mountains.”
“Can she get there safely?”
“She’s more resourceful than you think. She’ll be fine.”
“Good. As for us, we need to figure out our next step.”
Shea tightened her hands around her cup, but the coffee had cooled to lukewarm and didn’t provide much warmth. “We have weapons, supplies, everything we need here.”
“A car?”
“Yes.”
“Burner phones? I lost mine.”
“Yep.”
He nodded. “Do you have any trusted contacts? Someone who can help us get out of the country?”
“Not anymore. I can’t risk meeting up with anyone from my past. Dan will have eyes everywhere. I won’t put them in danger.”
“Next option. We load up the car and head for the mountains. Stay out of sight until the bans lift and things settle down. Then we get some passports made and go home.”
Home. That single word elicited an ache inside her chest. She didn’t have a home anymore. The CIA had been her home for what seemed like forever. There was nothing left there for her. No-one left to come home to. It was just her against the world.
And she’d thought being tied in that tunnel had been lonely. It didn’t compare to the realization you had nothing and no-one.
Kell had a big family waiting for him back home. Brothers to watch his six, parents to welcome him. She had an apartment in Virginia with unpacked boxes and dead plants. An apartment she could never return to. Dan would cover all of his bases and have her apartment staked out in case she found a way out of A-Stan. He would leave no rock unturned.
Which left her no place to go.
“You should go home,” she said. “As soon as you can.”
“I’m not leaving here without you.”
The stubbornness written in the lines of his face told her there would be no argument. He was not leaving without her. While part of her reveled in the loyal side of him, the other part refused to endanger his family. The Wolff brothers were good at what they did, but the CIA was better.
“Maybe I’ll just stay dead,” she said, meeting his gaze. “My career is over. Everything I have is gone. Maybe I’ll just disappear. I’m pretty damn good at it.”
“Shea…”
She held up a hand to stop him. “No. Hear me out. I’m burned. All doors are closed. Everyone thinks I’m already dead so instead of stirring the pot why don’t I just disappear in some tropical paradise and start over. Like a second chance.”
Kell leaned forward, his expression angry. “Because this isn’t a second chance. They will never stop looking for you. As long as they know you’re alive they will search the ends of the earth for you. Nowhere is safe. You’ll always be looking over your shoulder. What kind of life is that?”
Her temper was rising now. “What do you propose, Kell? That I go up against my DO and call him out as a traitor? I’m already burned. There would be no coming back from accusing my boss of being a double agent.”
“That’s exactly what you have to do. I know you, Shea, you don’t roll over for anyone or anything. And you aren’t the type of woman who looks over her shoulder everyday of her life.”
He was right. She wasn’t. The thought of spending her days as someone else didn’t settle well. She’d had to be so many different people for her job that she’d nearly lost sight of who she was. After a while you started believing the lies. She could do it. Of that she had no doubt. It’s what made her a good agent.
But, could she do it forever? Live under an alias? Create an entire new world and try and live in it? Kind of like Witness Protection. And that didn’t appeal whatsoever.
Then again, turning on her boss didn’t appeal either. It would turn brutal. His word against hers unless she found proof. And his connections were much bigger than hers. He’d find a way to get rid of her once and for all. She’d be a fool to give him another chance.
“It would be easy for me,” she said, still trying to convince him that this was the best option for her. The safest. “Becoming someone else is what I do.”
“I don’t doubt that, but you can’t run forever. Your past will catch up with you.”
For a moment his words bounced around in her head. Was he talking about when she walked out on him? Why she never called? Was she looking for an explanation now?
“Not if I stay one step in front of it,” she said, hating how irritated she sounded. Kell didn’t know any of her secrets. And for now it needed to stay that way. She wasn’t ready to tell him what had happened. About the baby. Their baby.
Pain knifed through her chest, the same as it always did when she thought of the baby she’d lost. That emptiness in her would never be filled. And she didn’t want it to be. She never wanted to be pregnant again. Just the thought of it happening all over again made her nauseated. What if she wasn’t meant to have children and losing her sister was only an excuse for why she lost the baby?
She wasn’t the nurturing type. Certainly not the kind of woman who becomes a mother. Even if it had felt like the most natural thing ever when she was pregnant.
And God had taken that baby away from her. Proving she didn’t deserve to be a mom. She’d done a lot of of underhanded things in her career. Some she wasn’t proud of. But, it got bad men off the streets and for that she would never regret what she did. Who she’d had to become.
“And how do you propose to do that?” Kell asked. “You’re good, Shea, but not invincible.”
Honestly, she didn’t know. All she knew was that her skills as a spook would keep her one step in front of Dan. He’d trained her. She knew everything about him and how he operated.
Well, she’d thought she knew him. She certainly hadn’t seen the traitor in him.
Anger coursed through her blood. She was angry that she hadn’t seen the signs, that Dan would do the unthinkable despite his wife and kids. She’d met his family. Had dinner with them so many times she felt like they were her family.
Now, she would never see them again. Could never look them in the eye. Not that she would ever get the chance to. To them, she was deceased.
To the world, she was gone. She no longer had anywhere she belonged. And it unnerved her like nothing else.
She was…lost.
19
Jamshid, Azbakastan
Kell searched Shea’s face, trying to read what she was thinking. Nearly impossible. She’d been schooled at hiding her emotions and she was damn good at it. The only time he could read her was when her defenses were down. The only time that happened was when she was aroused. It was the only time she opened the door for a peak inside.
Which put him in a precarious position. If Shea invited him into her bed he’d go willingly. Hell, it was all he could do to keep his mind off making love to her. Feeling that mind-numbing satiation he’d only felt with her. Leave the world outside the door and disappear sounded damn good right now.
Back to reality. That wasn’t going to happen. First and foremost, they needed to find a place to lay low.
“We need somewhere to go,” he said. “Think, Shea. There has to be someone out there you can trust.”
A mask dropped down and her back went rigid. He hadn’t meant to insult her.
“I can help.”
They both turned to see Alsu standing in the doorway. The somber look in her dark eyes matched her tone.
“My village. They can hide you.”
Shea shook her head. “No. I can’t do that. I won’t put your family in jeopardy.”
Alsu’s resolve strengthened and Kell now knew why Shea had hired her. The woman was as stubborn as Shea herself. Not an easy feat.
“You go now. Pack. We leave in twenty minutes.” With that she turned and walked from the room, leaving no room for argument.
Shea looked annoyed. “I hate it when she does that.”
“Protect you?”
She sent him a look. “Override me. I’m her
boss, damn it.”
He almost smiled at that. Shea liked to be the one in control. As he did. It was irritating when someone countermanded your authority. His brothers did it all the time. Usually ended up in a fist fight and someone bleeding. Both, actually.
“Right now she’s our only ally. I say we go with her.”
Her lips flattened. She definitely wasn’t happy about it, but he could tell she was wavering. Shea was smart, she knew they had no other option.
“At the first sign of danger we ditch,” she said with absolution.
“Agreed.” He wouldn’t do anything to put Alsu’s family in jeopardy either. She knew that, she just couldn’t see past her need to protect them. He understood her refusal to shed more blood. Enough had been spilled already.
“I’ll pack food and supplies. You get the weapons. There’s a duffle bag in one of the drawers.”
They separated. Kell found two duffle bags and filled them with his choice of weapons and ammo. He included knives and grenades. Never know when you might need them.
With luck, they wouldn’t need to use any of them.
In case they did, he’d stocked enough weapons to take on an army.
Kell maneuvered the Land Rover out of the garage and onto the street.
“Clear,” Shea said, glancing back at Alsu in the backseat. “Which direction?”
Alsu pointed right and Kell went in that direction. Getting to the mountains would be the hardest part. They would have roadblocks and checkpoints looking for Americans trying to flee the cities.
Like them.
His gut churned with tension. If the CIA didn’t know about Shea’s safe house they could have waited it out there. He didn’t like knowing there could be a spook around every corner. They were clandestine and damn good at it. Especially the higher ups.
Look what they had done to Shea. If not for Alsu and a backup plan she might have died there in those tunnels. How Yosef found out where she’d been he still couldn’t figure out. He was one good C.I.
As they drove slowly down the deserted streets he wondered how far they’d get before shit caught up to them. Shea especially. She looked like death warmed over. Her pale skin was nearly white. The dark circles under her eyes stood out like beacons. She was too thin, her clothes hanging on her frame. The jeans that should be tight on her slender legs gapped at the waist. She’d added a thin belt to help keep them on her hips.
He didn’t like seeing her like this. Sickly wasn’t her. Weak definitely wasn’t her. Made him want to wrap his arms around her and never let her go.
Yeah, right, as if Shea would ever let him do that. She wasn’t the type to let a man protect her. It would piss her off more than anything. Not that she was a feminist, but one very independent lady.
An annoying trait, but necessary for them to make it out of this alive. Life would definitely be much easier if she went along with things instead of trying to control them.
Avoiding the main streets, Kell drove them out of town. Luckily, this part of the city hadn’t erupted in violence yet. It was eerie driving down empty roads, the houses locked up, no kids playing in the yards, no-one taking the trash out and hardly any cars in the driveways. Like the town that dreaded sunrise.
You could cut through the tension in the car with a knife as they drove closer to the mountains. Ahead, at the base, Kell saw a check station. Not an official one, but one with scruffy looking men holding automatic weapons. Kell counted them. Outnumbered at least twenty to two. They couldn’t drive through the roadblock because it was made of cement blocks. Going around it wouldn’t work because they probably had tire spikes laid out.
“There’s a roadblock,” Shea said, shifting in her seat. “Even in disguise they will stop us. What do we do?”
Kell slowed, getting in the line with the rest of the vehicles. On their right was an outpost where travelers could pick up last minute supplies and gas. On the left small hills with shrub trees and some taller pines.
“Go off road?” he suggested, swiveling his head for options.
“This vehicle can take it,” Shea said. “It’s reinforced steel, bulletproof windows and a souped up engine.”
“That’s all good, but we need to do this quietly. Running a check point will only alert them and put an army on our tail. I have a plan.” He glanced at Shea. “Do exactly as I say.”
Cedar Falls, Michigan
Evan Wolff took a hard right to his jaw, snapping his head sideways and nearly knocking him off balance. He regained his footing and retaliated with a jab and a right cross that sent his opponent stumbling backward. Taking advantage of his opponents compromised balance, Evan attacked his hips, grabbed his legs and slammed him to the floor. He kept his chin tucked to avoid the guillotine choke the guy attempted on him.
Around him the crowd went wild. He barely heard it past the ringing in his ears as he planted himself over the guys hips and drove him to the ground. In his mind’s eye he saw his brother, Ryan, covered in blood from a gunshot wound to his chest. That fatal bullet had taken his life. Stole him from them. And now the man responsible for his brother’s death had been wiped off the face of the earth. Not by him. Not by his brothers. By a team of Special Operators who were damn good at their job, but it didn’t ease the need for vengeance. It ate at him like a disease.
Emotions fought inside him, gnashing to be let out. Grief. Pain. Rage. Vengeance. A roar tore out of him, unheard in the noisy crowd, and he let the beast go, pummeling his opponent until they finally dragged him off and shoved him in a corner.
Breathing hard, adrenaline pumping, he paced the cage, wanting more. Needing more to dull the torment he felt inside. Until they carried him out of this ring he wouldn't stop. Couldn’t stop.
When his opponent, bleeding from a cut above his eye and broken nose rose to his feet, put his head down and nodded to the ref who was really there to stop anyone from being killed, Evan felt an intense sense of satisfaction. Bring it on.
He stalked his prey, circling until he threw a jab. Evan dodged it, executing a jab and right hook to the guys head then a left hook to his body. The sound of his four-ounce glove hitting flesh fed his need.
The guy retaliated, coming in for the kill. Evan kept his guard, blocked, jabbed. A couple got through, busting open his eyebrow. Warm blood seeped down his face. He swiped it away and kept fighting. His opponent had bloodlust of his own and came on strong.
Taking the hard shots to his head and body, Evan reveled in the adrenaline coursing through him. Making him feel alive. Dulling the pain of losing Ryan. Of not being there to protect him.
Something red flashed in his peripheral vision. Temporarily distracted he searched the crowd for the source.
It was her. Sitting in the second row next to the same man she always came with and completely out of place. Everything about her screamed rich, uptight, upper crust of society that only showed up at these events to make money. Or, she just got off on watching two men beat the hell out of each other for sport.
But, there was something different about her. She wasn't a ring rat. She had more class than that. In fact, she was downright gorgeous with her long, dark hair pulled up in a sleek twist, her high cheekbones and fine features. Tonight she wore a red dress with thin straps that revealed her slender shoulders. Her lips were painted the same red. No, this woman definitely wasn’t a groupie. She didn’t belong here.
Her arctic blue eyes met his at the same moment his opponent threw a left hook that made Evan see stars. He stumbled back against the cage, trying to clear the dots in front of his eyes. A glove landed on his ribs.
Sexy brunette forgotten, he defended himself, his head still spinning. That didn’t stop him from reversing positions and letting loose. The roar of the crowd, the blood pouring from his eye and his opponents nose, the pure adrenaline pumping through his system. The rush drove him over the edge. Until someone pulled him off and shoved him in a corner.
He punched the air with his fist, circling the cage.
His opponent had to be carried out. Evan didn’t care about winning or losing a fight, he did it as therapy for all the emotions that raged inside him. Fighting numbed them. Or, overshadowed them. Whatever. It fucking worked to anesthetize his grief.
The ref lifted his arm, announced him the winner, and the crowd erupted in cheers. Evan ignored them as he walked off the mat. His gaze searched the crowd for the woman in red, but she was gone. Her seat empty.
What the hell did he care anyway? He had nothing to offer right now. All he had were his skills and the need for another unsanctioned fight. Some called them ‘fight clubs’ like the movie but not him. Fight Club was a movie. This was life. And it was a whole lot messier.
Fans clapped him on the shoulder as he walked up the runway and out of the gym. How Freddie continued to get away with throwing smokers in a legit gym he didn’t know. Didn’t matter to him as long as he kept hosting exhibition bouts. What did he care if Freddie hosted ‘kickboxing and Muay Thai events off the books. Fighters didn’t sign up to get paid. They did it to gain experience. Or, hash out issues.
His brothers wouldn’t approve of his methods to deal with Ryan’s loss. They would step up readily to kick his ass and help him get his mind right. But, he wasn’t one to share his feelings. Not that any of them really did. He just wasn’t in a place to share right now. He was much happier taking his grief out on strangers who wanted to knock his ass out.
He passed a couple fighters in the hallway. They smirked and kept walking. Evan gave a curt nod and entered the locker room. He didn’t let the moans of agony or the pep talks from stupid friends deter him from taking off his gloves, tossing them in his duffle along with his mouthpiece and striding out the back door. On the way out he grabbed a paper towel and pressed it to the cut above his eye.
Warm night air greeted him, replacing the scent of sweat and blood from the gym. As he weaved through cars and trucks toward his vehicle he heard a woman cry out. Stifled, but evident. Stopping in his tracks, he scanned the darkened lot. He’d seen fighters lose and take out their anger on their women. Had put a few of the bastards down only to see the women weeks later at another event with fresh bruises on their faces. Their choice, but he wasn’t going to stand by and watch it happen.
Worth the Risk (Book 3, Wolff Securities Series) Page 11