Undetected (Treasure Hunter Security Book 8)

by Anna Hackett

  “I know you’re up for a challenge.”

  She growled. “I’m good, Burke, but not a magician.”

  “So, you’re saying you can’t do it?”

  Damn, she saw the challenge in his eyes. Her brothers had learned early that the quickest way to get her to do something was to challenge her.

  It looked like Burke knew her secret. He was manipulating her, dammit. “You think you know me so well.”

  “I do.”

  She shook her head.

  “I know your middle name,” he said.

  Her eyes widened. She never told anyone her middle name. “You do not.”

  “Try me.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “You repeat it, I’ll hack your computer and leave a virus that will make you weep.”

  The annoying man just raised a brow. “So, the trackers?”

  “Fine. I’ll see what I can do, but I’m not making any promises.”

  He looked smug. “Okay.”

  “If I do this, you owe me. Big time.”

  His eyes flashed. “Whatever you want. I’ll do anything to make sure we catch the Collector.”

  She heard the iron determination in his voice. Not for the first time, she wondered what drove him. Keeping her tone light, she raised a brow. “Better be careful there, Burke. You have no idea what I might demand.”

  “I think I can handle it.”

  Darcy suddenly had the suspicion they were talking about something else. She cleared her throat. “I’ll make some calls.”

  He shot her a faint smile and damn if it wasn’t a good one.

  Focus, Darcy.

  Chapter Three

  Alastair stood with his hands on his hips, studying the main lobby. Banners in glossy red had been unfurled from the mezzanine-level railings above, hanging almost to the floor below. They showcased images of the cursed diamonds.

  They were another day closer to springing their trap.

  “We’re nearly ready for the big night.” Thom stood beside him, studying the scene as well.

  Alastair grunted. He spotted Darcy up on the mezzanine, directing some of the museum security geeks to adjust cameras.

  In her dark jeans, knee-high boots, and blood-red sweater, she looked gorgeous. Too damn gorgeous.

  Since he’d joined the FBI, he’d let nothing and no one derail his mission. He didn’t have time for relationships. Silk Road had killed his mother. They’d hurt her, stolen her life, and destroyed his. From a boy, he’d vowed he wouldn’t stop until the organization was dust and his mother had her justice.

  “Alastair?”

  He looked back at Thom. His partner glanced up at Darcy, then back to Alastair.

  “I hope you get your head out of your workaholic ass about that woman.”

  Alastair was not having this discussion. He crossed his arms over his chest.

  As usual Thom didn’t look fazed. They’d worked together long enough that Thom was immune to the looks and moods that sent younger agents scurrying.

  Thom shook his head. “At least tell me you have your tux organized?”

  Alastair scowled. “Tux?”

  “Yes, a tuxedo, Alastair. For the black-tie opening gala that we’ve been planning for several weeks.”

  Alastair ignored the sarcasm. “I’ll find something.”

  Thom, always the fashion plate, held up a hand. “No. I’ll arrange it.”

  “I have something—”

  “You have something plain and ill-fitting.” Thom ran his gaze over Alastair, like he was sizing him up. “I’ll sort it out.”

  Alastair had more important things to worry about than damn tuxedos. “The agents for the gala have all been briefed.”

  Thom’s face turned serious. “Yes. You picked a good team. Plus, with the Treasure Hunter Security guys backing them up, we’ll be well covered.”

  Alastair had wanted the best. He’d handpicked the best agents and it was the reason he’d brought THS in.

  “And the security for the guests—”

  Thom nodded. “Guards will be wanding people at the doors. The Dashwood director looked a bit sick when I told him, but he agreed. He has no desire to lose the Louvre’s diamonds.”

  Alastair looked up at the mezzanine again, but Darcy was gone. He frowned. “Where’s Darcy?” She’d probably gone to get coffee. Again.

  “She mentioned something about going to see someone about the ‘fucking impossible trackers Agent Arrogant and Annoying wanted.’” Thom’s smile was blinding. “She has you pegged.”

  Alastair raised a brow. “You want to be reassigned to Alaska, Singh?”

  “Ah, no,” Thom said. “I don’t like the cold.”

  “You assigned someone to follow Darcy, right? Silk Road is out there, and watching her.”

  “Of course, I did. Anderson.”

  Alastair nodded. The agent was good and competent.

  Just then, Alastair’s phone vibrated and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Burke.”

  “Sir, it’s Agent Anderson.”

  Burke stiffened. “What’s wrong?”

  “Miss Ward gave me the slip on New York Avenue NW. I’ve got no idea where she’s headed.”

  Alastair cursed and snapped his phone shut.

  “She gave Anderson the slip.”

  Thom cursed.

  Alastair jogged for the door. “If she comes back, call me.” But Alastair planned to track down the little escape artist himself and give her a piece of his mind.

  Darcy stepped out of the cab and looked around. Brentwood was not a good area of DC, with a high crime rate, and plenty of worn, ugly apartment buildings.

  “Thanks,” she said to her driver.

  “You sure you want to be here, lady?”

  “I’ll be fine. Thanks again.”

  She closed the door and headed up the sidewalk. She kept her chin up and her stride confident. If you seemed like prey, you became prey.

  She spotted some young guys eyeing her and she stared back boldly. They remained on their stoop, still watching her, but unmoving.

  Avoiding a crack in the sidewalk, she made her way toward a rundown apartment building near the corner. She went to ring the buzzer, but saw that the door lock was busted. Shaking her head, she opened the door and stepped inside. She headed up the stairs. The place was all kinds of grimy, and smelled of smoke, sweat, and urine. Her nose wrinkled. Nice.

  She quickly made her way to the top floor and knocked on the door she wanted.

  A shuffling noise from inside. “Go away.”

  “Animal, it’s Darcy Ward.”

  There was a pause.

  She heard the sound of chains unlocking. The door swung open. Animal was a small, wiry, mixed-race man, with a mop of curly hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed in…maybe a year. His brown eyes were dilated. She knew he had a drug habit, and liked amphetamines—anything that made him go faster and need less sleep.

  “Darce.” He wiped his hand on his dirty jeans. “I’m busy.”

  “I told you I was coming.” She stepped closer, and when he backed up a step, she pushed inside and shut the door.

  There were computers all over the living room. Some were on and working, and others were just disassembled parts. On the main screen, she saw a first-person shooter game going on, and on a smaller screen, she saw Animal was running a hack. On yet another screen, she saw design schematics for…something.

  The sagging couch was covered in discarded food wrappers and empty cups. Gross.

  “Take a seat.” He pushed a stack of magazines off a stool and they crashed to the floor.

  “I’m fine, thanks.” And after this, she was going to douse herself in antiseptic solution.

  “Do you want a…?” Looking confused, he glanced toward the kitchen. “Drink?”

  She followed his gaze. The small kitchen was filled with filthy dishes. Hell, no. “I’m good, thanks.”

  “So, long time no see, Darce.” He slipped his hands into his pockets, cau
sing his baggy jeans to slide lower.

  “It’s been a while,” she said. “I brought you a challenge.”

  Animal’s eyes sharpened. “Oh yeah?”

  “I need an undetectable tracker with a decent range.”

  Animal’s brown eyes turned considering. “Might have something. It’s best if you can hide it inside—”

  She shook her head. “It needs to go on the outside and not be visible. At all.”

  “Darcy—”

  “I need to put the tracker on gemstones.”

  Animal looked at her for a beat, then threw his head back and laughed hysterically. “Not possible.”

  “It needs to be small, obviously. Transparent—”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Come on, Animal. I know you get your hands on a lot of stuff.” Military-grade, experimental stuff. She had no idea how he did it, or who gave it to him. And she didn’t ask.

  His eyes flickered. “Nope. Don’t have anything like that.”

  “Come on. I’ll pay.”

  “Pay?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  He looked tempted for a beat, then shook his head.

  “I’ll get you gear.” She knew his weakness. “Something top-of-the-line.” Darcy wracked her brain and a thought hit her. “How about a drone? Best you’ve ever seen.”

  Animal went still. “A drone? I like drones.”

  “It may not be working, but I can at least get you some parts.” She pulled up her tablet and accessed her private server. She pulled up a recording that showed the high-tech drone that the mysterious Team 52 had used in Africa when they’d collided with THS on a mission.

  Animal’s gaze locked on the screen and turned hungry. He licked his lips. “I want it.”

  She smiled and turned the video off. “You make me three small trackers that can’t be detected, and I’ll get you the drone parts.”

  His eyelids twitched. “It’ll take time to put them together…”

  “I need them in two days.”

  “Darce,” he groaned. “You’re killing me.”

  “Do we have a deal?” She wasn’t risking shaking hands. She didn’t want to pick up something infectious.

  Animal sighed. “Deal. Sometimes I regret meeting you in the gaming chat room years ago.”

  She winked at him. “No, you don’t.”

  Suddenly, there was a thud at the door. They both turned, just as the door flew open and two guys with guns raced in. They were covered in tattoos and wearing baggy jeans.

  Uh-oh. Gang members.

  Animal spun to face the men. “Oh, hey, Spider. King.”

  “You owe us money, Animal,” the one with a shaved head said. He had the tattoo of a large spider on the side of his neck.

  The other one was taller and broader, with dark hair and a tight, white T-shirt. His gaze fell on Darcy and lit up. “Who’s the classy piece?”

  Animal’s face turned green. “King, she’s—”

  “Hi, I’m Darcy,” she said. “I was just leaving.”

  She took one step, but the dark-haired man, King, sidestepped and blocked her.

  Double uh-oh.

  “Help! Help!” Animal screamed.

  Both men lifted their handguns. One fired. Bullets hit the wall above her head and Darcy ducked. Animal dived to the side and careened into a table of junk. It collapsed under his weight.

  King moved toward Darcy, arm outstretched.

  She grabbed it, bent her knees and shifted her weight. She threw him over her shoulder. He landed flat on his back on the dirty carpet, blinking at the ceiling.

  “My brothers are both former Navy SEALs. They taught me self-defense. And my mother’s no slouch in a fight, either.”

  Spider was still standing and lifted his gun, aiming at her face. “Oh, yeah? Got any fancy moves that can beat a bullet?”

  Darcy froze. Shit.

  Then she saw movement in the doorway. Burke strode through the door and her heart leaped.

  His suit jacket flared out behind him and his face was grim.

  He came up behind Spider and landed a hard chop to the gangbanger’s neck. The man cried out, his gun falling to the dirty carpet. Spider spun, only to meet a hard punch to the face. The thug stumbled backward, and Burke gripped the guy, spun him, and slammed him face first into the wall.

  Burke pulled cuffs off his belt.

  Wow. The man did not mess around.

  Darcy saw movement out of the corner of her eye. King leaped to his feet and charged at Burke.

  Burke’s face didn’t change, just stayed cool and collected. He kicked at King’s arm. The gun went off, a bullet hitting the ceiling, then the gun spun and fell somewhere near the couch. Burke followed through with a hard jab, then a mean hook. King made a pained sound. Burke stepped closer, rammed a punch into the man’s gut, then elbowed him in the face.

  There was an ugly crunch that made Darcy wince, and then King went to his knees, gurgling.

  Burke dragged King over by his buddy and handcuffed him as well.

  Animal got back to his feet, looking freaked.

  Burke pointed a finger at Darcy. “You and I are going to have a discussion.”

  She crossed her arms. “I had it under control.” Okay, she hadn’t, but she knew “discussion” meant a whole lot of yelling and orders.

  He strode up to her until he was only an inch away. “You had a gun in your face.”

  Right, not so great. “Burke—”

  He grabbed her arm. “You do not give your escort the slip.”

  “I didn’t need company. Animal is—” twitchy, does highly illegal stuff “—sensitive.”

  Animal made a choked sound and turned to Darcy. “You brought Superman with you?”

  “Not Superman, just Special Agent Very Arrogant and Annoying.”

  Burke’s green eyes flashed. She was pretty sure he wanted to either shake her or choke her.

  “Special Agent,” Animal squeaked.

  “FBI,” Burke growled, scanning the apartment.

  “He’s not here for you.” Darcy stepped away from Burke. “Animal is going to get us trackers.”

  “I can get you the hardware,” Animal said. “But the programming—”

  “I can take care of that,” Darcy said.

  “Go.” He waved them off. “If anyone sees I have the FB-fucking-I in my place, I’ll be screwed.”

  “I have police coming to pick up these two,” Burke said.

  Animal squeaked again, his eyes going wide. “The police.” His eyes rolled around wildly.

  “We’ll pull them out into the hall,” Darcy said.

  From beside her, Burke growled.

  “Thanks, Animal,” Darcy said cheerily.

  He just glared at her.

  Muscle ticking in his jaw, Burke snatched up the handguns lying on the carpet, then dragged the two groaning gang members onto the landing. Darcy followed, and as soon as they were out, Animal slammed the door shut. Moments later, two uniformed officers came up the stairs.

  “Agent Burke?” one officer said.

  “Yeah. I have two gang members for you. Both threatened Ms. Ward here and discharged weapons.” Burke handed over the handguns.

  The officer eyed the two handcuffed men. “Hey, Spider. Hey, King.” He looked at Burke. “We’ll take it from here.”

  With a nod, Burke gripped Darcy’s arm and yanked her down the stairs.

  “Burke—”

  “Be quiet.”

  “Really, I—”

  “You’re a trouble magnet.”

  She made a scoffing sound. “Excuse me—”

  With a swift move, Burke backed her into the wall. She looked into his face and gasped. All that usual rock-solid control was crumbling.

  “Do. Not. Sneak. Out. Again.” His voice was clipped and seething.

  “Don’t give me orders, Alastair.”

  “You need them.”

  “Excuse me? I have a perfectly good brain—”r />
  He leaned closer, his nose brushing hers. “You need to be quiet.” Something moved through his eyes. “On the plane, I discovered one way to shut you up and keep you out of trouble.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest, and it wasn’t from fear. She licked her lips and his gaze dropped to her mouth

  “Really, you are so arrogant—”

  His mouth crashed down on hers. Fueled by anger and other emotions, his tongue speared into her mouth. She moaned, sliding hers along his. She pressed into him and the kiss was deep and fierce.

  Then he pulled back, his face unreadable. Darcy tried to get her brain cells working again, but they’d decided to take a vacation.

  Then Burke took her hand and pulled her out the door.

  Chapter Four

  Once parked in front of the Dashwood Museum, Alastair got out of his car and stormed around to the passenger side. Darcy was already out of the car, and he grabbed her hand, tugging her along. He heard her heels clicking on the sidewalk.

  “Burke, quit dragging me around like a dog,” she snapped.

  He ignored her and headed up the wide, marble steps, past the elegant columns, and into the museum.

  As soon as they were inside, the tightness in his chest eased. She was safe. He could breathe again.

  On the drive back to the museum, all he’d kept seeing in his head was the image of Darcy in that shitty apartment, with a gun pointed at her head.

  He spun to face her. “You need to learn to follow orders.”

  “I’m neither a soldier nor a robot.” Her chin lifted. “You need to act less like a dictator and more like a person. Make the odd request, use your manners, have a feeling or two.”

  “I feel.”

  “Really? Most of the time, you don’t show a flicker of emotion.”

  He was feeling a whole chaotic mess of emotions right now, with fury leading them all. He sucked in a breath.

  “You’re just so driven,” she muttered. “Sometimes I don’t think you care about anything except taking down Silk Road.”

  For years, that had been all he’d cared about. All he should care about. “Think you can stay out of trouble for longer than a few minutes?”

  She crossed her arms, and he tried not to look at the way it pushed her breasts up against the tempting red fabric of her sweater.