by Michele Hauf
“Not sure. Something happened. And that’s all I’m going to say.”
“Very well. Sass. I want you to trust me. You’re key to the crew. I need you.”
“You’re going to have to prove it by making up for stabbing me.” She clicked off and set the phone on the table.
“That bastard wants to meet?” Jack asked.
She nodded and stood, stretching her back muscles from side to side and feeling the painful tug in her thigh again. The longer she sat, the achier her muscles grew. She needed to stay on her feet.
“The first caller was Chester. He wants me back online with them.” She tapped the phone. “The sniper was with the bratva. A torpedo.” “Hired killer,” Jack said, and then whistled lowly. He rubbed the cut on his cheek. “They should get a refund for that cocked up job.”
“Right? Chester has been able to connect Clive to the bratva as well, and he’s assuming Clive made the call for the hit. The ECU wants me to bring Clive in. And wonder upon wonders, Clive followed us here.”
“He’s in London?”
“Someplace in Peckham.”
“That’s not far from here.”
She nodded. “I can’t seem to shake that guy. He’s like a tick that I can’t crush.”
“You arranged to meet him. You’re not going alone.”
“He thinks you’re gone. I tossed that in, in case he believes the sniper hit his mark.”
Jack nodded. “Good call. But you’re not going alone. I’ll be close.”
“I want you there. I don’t trust Clive as far as I can spit. I think he’s going to try and take me out.” And the shiver up her spine echoed that statement. “We need to move. I’ve got the pickup soon.”
“Right. But first.” Jack strode down the hallway and into the bedroom. “Come here!”
She wandered into the white-walled room. The twin-size bed boasted an old patchwork quilt that looked like something Saskia’s grandmother might have made. It was a strangely homey touch that made her gasp and put her fingers to her throat.
Jack sorted through some items hanging in the closet and produced a black vest. “Kevlar,” he said.
“You want me to wear that?”
“You’re not leaving without it on. And I’m going to arm up.” He tossed her the heavy vest, and then bent to push aside a shoe rack that revealed a medium-sized safe. Two minutes later, he checked the magazine on a Ruger and then tucked it in his waistband. “Now, we’re ready.”
* * * *
The pickup was a breeze. Jack almost stopped Saskia from reaching out the car window for the plain brown leather attaché handed over from a parked Volvo. She had cobbled together a million pounds to ransom his brother. A million pounds that he didn’t have to pay her back. A million she had saved for whatever sort of emergency or backup plans she had made.
He couldn’t do this.
She turned to him, attaché in hand, beaming. “Drive, Jack. We’re done here.”
The Volvo drove away and for a moment Jack felt helpless. And grateful. And lost in the woman’s smile.
“Jack?”
He shook out of the strange wonder. Saskia laid the attaché on her lap and rapped her fingers on it. “Come on. We’ve gotta head to the next meeting. The one where I get dead.”
“Don’t say that.” He pulled into traffic from the parking lot and signaled his turn. “I’m going to have eyes on you the whole time. And you’ve got Chester in your ear, yes?”
“Yes, the ECU should be on the scene. You know this will lead the ECU right to you?”
“There’s no place I’d rather be right now.” He cast her a wink, but the lighthearted move didn’t ring true in his heart. He was nervous as hell that the ECU would scoop him up and take him away. Or take him out.
It could happen. It would happen. He crossed his fingers it didn’t occur until after he’d gotten Jonny back safely.
“The only place you want to be right now is at your brother’s side,” Saskia said. “So, you going to write me an IOU for this, Jack?”
“The money? Of course.”
“I’m kidding. This is a gift. I have more.”
“You do? How comfortable are you?”
“I would never call keeping money in overseas bank accounts comfortable, but I’ll survive. It means a lot that you’ll take this from me.”
“Like how so?”
“Like…” She turned on the seat and faced him. He kept his eyes on the traffic but he could feel her scrutiny on the side of his face. He wanted to lean over and kiss her. “Maybe I like you more than a little,” she confessed. “Enough to trust you with my secrets, anyway.”
“I’ve told you that isn’t wise.”
“I think it is. You might not want to show it, but you feel the same way about me. I have a confession, Jack.”
“Bring it.”
“I’ve never been in love before. Never had a relationship that made me want anything more than club-hopping and sex from a guy, you know?”
“Why are you bringing this up?”
“Because. Maybe… This could be love. I don’t really know what that is though,” she said. “No one has ever said it to me. But then, who knows? Maybe I am in love.”
He swallowed and glanced at her. She shrugged, offering wide, bright eyes. God, she was beautiful. And talking about love and all that crazy stuff? He wanted to get behind it, but he was like her. Love wasn’t tops on his list of experiences. Women had been rather fluid in his life. One or two might have hung around for a few months, but never anything permanent. It was difficult to have a relationship when a guy was a thug. And even harder when his life belonged to a black ops Interpol organization.
Not that he couldn’t have relationships. He’d just…never taken the time for one. It had always been family first.
But his family had grown distant. And yet, why did he feel Saskia was akin to family?
“I just freaked you out, didn’t I?” she asked. “Sorry. That was my mistake.”
“No, it’s cool.” He pulled down a dark road. It was nearing ten in the evening. They were cutting it close to the midnight exchange for his brother.
“I think we both feel kind of the same, yeah?”
He smirked. “Yeah. The meet location is just ahead. I’m going to drop you off and park a few blocks up the way, then return on foot. You call in to Chester now and get your backup.”
“Will do.”
She slid the case under the front seat. Tugging off the scarf from around her neck, Saskia arranged it over the part that still showed, concealing it.
Jack’s phone rang and he answered abruptly. “Midnight,” the voice said. “The dock in East Tilbury. You know the one.”
Yes, he did. It was a place he and Jonny had once smuggled in stolen artifacts for the Downs gang. An unassuming, wooded area that hid a few old, unused docks nowadays.
“Got it,” Jack said. “My brother better be there. I’ve got the cash.” He hung up. “The exchange is by the river.”
“Really? A dock?” Saskia asked.
“It’s on the Thames, out of the city in East Tilbury. Down the way from Coalhouse Fort. It’s about an hour drive from here. If the traffic cooperates.”
“Then you should leave for the dock now,” she said, zipping up her coat to cover the Kevlar vest. “I’ll have backup.” She tapped the earbud.
Jack waited for her to make arrangements with Chester. The ECU would likely send a sniper out to keep an eye on Clive, though it sounded as though they wanted him alive. The local London police would be called to make an arrest. But they’d have to surround the meet on the sly so as not to alert Clive. Best scenario was if Saskia could keep him talking and not allow him to take her to another location.
“Ten minutes,” she said to Jack. “I should head out. I’ll see you after mid
night?”
“I’m not going anywhere until I know you’re safe.”
“Jack.”
“Hey, let me do the guy thing here, will you?”
She smiled at his turning around what she’d said to him earlier when she’d cleaned up his wound.
“You mean the rescuing knight?” she asked. “You’ve done that once already when I could have frozen to death in the ditch.”
“Maybe I need more practice.” He leaned over and pulled her to him with a hand to her nape. The kiss was warm and firm and the best thing he’d ever experience from here on out.
Because the moment he walked away from Saskia and handed over her cash to the men holding his brother, his future was uncertain. No way could he turn back and pretend everything was still the same.
As he pulled away from her mouth, but not so far that he still couldn’t kiss her quick, Jack said, “Family.”
“Is waiting for you,” she affirmed.
“No. It’s right here.” And another kiss was just the thing to keep him from saying more mushy, romantic stuff. His heart was feeling it, but it felt weird to put it into words. Especially a tough guy like himself. “You’re my family, Saskia. Don’t forget that. Now go. I’ve got your back.”
She nodded, bowing her head quickly and sniffing as she got out of the car. Had that been a tear she’d sniffed back?
“This romance stuff is crazy,” he muttered, pulling slowly down the street to find a parking spot. “It’ll be the death of me.”
* * * *
Saskia stood at the open end of the alleyway, hands in her pockets, knit cap pulled down tightly to keep away the chill. She didn’t need a disguise.
In her earbud, Chester spoke calmly. “We’re on, Saskia. I’ve got a man up high and a team of London constables on the other side of the building. Unmarked. We don’t want to spook the man. Keep him talking and allow the constables to move in.”
She didn’t reply. He wouldn’t expect her to.
So she had three men at her back? Correction: four. Jack was somewhere. She wished he’d gone on to the dock to rescue his brother. But he still had time. And knowing he was watching her right now lifted her shoulders and straightened her spine.
Maybe she had fallen in love with the bloke. Too bad there wasn’t a way to know what the next few minutes would bring. It would be a crime if, after finally realizing she had fallen in love, she lost that by death.
A man strode down the alley toward her, his gaze flicking left and right and up high, taking in the surroundings. Clive noted every crook and cranny. His hands were shoved in the slim pea coat he wore, and on his head a tight-fitted knit cap—much like Jack’s—concealed his silver hair. He neared and she shook her hands out at her sides to show him she wasn’t holding a weapon.
“Sass,” he said as he closed their distance. “I’m glad you came. So I’ll do you the favor of making this quick.”
Fingers tightening, Saskia’s heart dropped. That didn’t sound at all favorable from her side.
Clive stopped five feet before her, hands still in his pockets. “The sniper’s bullet was meant for you,” he said.
Her jaw dropped open.
“I’ve suspected you were duping me since the poison you gave me turned out to be nothing more than a compound of salt and fertilizer. I tasted it.” He pulled a hand out of his pocket.
She looked high for the sniper, but sighted no one.
“You’re with some secret organization,” Clive said. “My employer filled me in. Thanks for nothing.”
The impact of a bullet to the Kevlar vest at such close range pushed her back and threw her off her feet. Saskia felt as if her spine had been punched out through her back. She struggled to stay on her feet, clutching at her gut.
A hand gripped her by the hair and pulled her head up. The gun barrel hit hard against her temple.
Chapter 22
Jack swung his head around the corner of the print shop, where Saskia was to meet Clive. He’d heard Clive talking but couldn’t make out what he was saying. As he turned and shifted his shoulder to stand halfway unprotected by the building, he saw Clive’s hand pull out of his pocket. The object gripped in his hand was a gun.
Jack aimed down the alleyway, arm high and outstretched. He looked through the pistol sight. Saskia took a bullet to the gut. He didn’t flinch. She was wearing the Kevlar vest. It would hurt like a bitch and leave bruising, but she’d survive.
It was when he saw Clive’s hand move upward that Jack swore inwardly. Clive’s motions seemed to move so slowly that Jack could make out every minute fraction until the gun connected with Saskia’s temple. Clive’s finger had slid off the trigger and just as Jack watched that movement, he squeezed the trigger of his gun.
He watched Clive’s gun go flying. Clive flinched and yelped, drawing to his chest a bleeding hand. Saskia wavered and stumbled backward.
It had been a risky move, but it paid off.
Swinging into the alleyway, Jack raced toward the twosome, unconcerned for whatever backup the ECU might have on the scene. All he saw was Clive and Saskia. He wasn’t about to let her stand alone before that crazed bastard any longer. He collided with Clive and snatched him by the collar. The man groaned, gripping his bleeding hand.
“No apologies this time,” Jack said.
He connected his fist up under Clive’s jaw, a knockout punch—or it should have been. The man tumbled backward, his weight pulling Jack forward. He released the bastard to fall. Plunging to the ground beside the moaning man, Jack pummeled Clive in the ribs, gut, and collarbone with punches. He didn’t feel the pain of impact. He was merely returning to him the suffering he’d given Saskia.
“Stand down, Angelo!” a male voice said from above and behind him.
Jack didn’t listen. Saskia’s shoes appeared near Clive’s head and she begged him to stop. And it was only her voice that managed to connect with that broken part of him that didn’t know how to solve anything but with fists and fury.
Pulling his punch, Jack froze over Clive’s body. The man lay unconscious and bleeding. Chill air swept Jack’s face. His heart squeezed because he sensed Saskia standing over him. Witnessing him losing his shite. Behind him, he sensed others stood.
“Cuff him,” a female voice ordered. Not Saskia.
Two London police officers knelt and Jack stepped back as they cuffed Clive.
“Both of them,” the woman ordered. “Angelo too.”
A pair of hands gripped one of Jack’s wrists and tugged his arm to twist his hand around behind his back. It wasn’t a surprise. He’d suspected it could go down like this. The ECU had known he was with Saskia and wouldn’t miss the chance to also take him in hand.
Jack looked to Saskia. She clutched her gut but her expression was wild.
“No,” she said to the woman Jack had yet to see. “He helped us bring in Hendrix. You can’t take him in!”
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” the woman said.
And as the plastic ties zipped about Jack’s wrists, he turned to face the female with the deep and powerful voice. He knew her. She’d been the woman who had come to him after he’d been taken out of his jail cell. Tall, blond, and sexy as hell, but with an iron bar for a spine. Lucinda Marks, the Commander of the Elite Crimes Unit. The buck stopped with her; her word was all powerful.
“This shouldn’t surprise you, Angelo,” she said to him.
He lifted his chin. All he could think was that he’d failed Jonny. Twisting his hands within the tight zip ties, he wished they’d cuffed his wrists before him instead of behind him. At least then, he might have escaped. Now? He had to figure a way out of this.
As the officers roused Clive and lifted him to a stand, Jack was tugged away and down the alley. Behind him, Saskia argued with Lucinda Marks, the woman who could change a man’s life for the be
tter or the very worst.
Shite. He had to break free. Jonny needed him. But would he risk a sniper bullet to the skull again if he did so?
* * * *
Saskia swore at Lucinda Marks. She’d met her once and had never liked her, despite knowing she was the one who’d organized the ECU because she believed criminals deserved a second chance. Where was Jack’s second chance?
When it was obvious that no one was going to cuff her, Saskia stepped back from Marks. Her gut ached and she wanted to bend over and cry, but there was no time for feeling sorry for herself. It had to be nearing eleven, probably past that time. Jack’s brother had less than an hour.
“We’ll need you to come in for a debriefing,” Marks said as she brushed a sweep of blond hair from her perfectly made-up face. The beige wool coat that swept to her ankles must have cost a pretty penny. “You want a ride to headquarters with me?”
Saskia shifted back her shoulders, standing strong. Best not to run off and draw the sniper’s bullet after her. He’d made himself known by leaning out the window and waving to Marks. “I’ll get there on my own.”
“You don’t know where it is,” Marks said. “Come on, ride with me.”
“There’s something I’ve got to do first.”
Lucinda’s gaze cut through Saskia’s bravery. Ice Queen must be the oath most often whispered behind her back.
“You can do whatever you want with me in an hour. Just give me one hour,” Saskia stated emphatically. “I’ll explain everything then.” She turned and rushed down the alleyway where the police cars were pulling away.
A glance over her shoulder saw Marks shake her head toward the sniper. He’d been called down. Whew! She was giving her the hour?
Hard to know.
“What’s going on?” Chester asked.
Touching the plastic device in her ear, Saskia almost pulled it out to toss aside, but a moment of wisdom stilled her. “Got a date with a man who needs my help,” she said. “You can verify to the Commander that I’m not going AWOL. I swear it to you.”
“This is irregular, Petrovik. The Commander wants you back at headquarters.”