Man Down

by Misty Evans

Aidan laid a hand on her arm, his brows rising with questions. She would fill him in in a minute. “Book me on the first flight back to D.C.,” she told Rory.

  Before he could answer, Beatrice popped on the line “Have you completed your mission, Hathor?”

  Had she been on speakerphone all this time? “No, but –“

  “Your orders stand. I will alert the Russians at the consulate in question about possible compromise. I’ll take care of things on this end; you do the same there.”

  Bree started to argue, then realized Beatrice had the resources to do exactly that and there was no real reason for her to return yet. Still, she felt like Beatrice was taking this out of her hands, and then, following that thought, she realized it had never really been in them.

  This had been Aidan’s mission, not hers. She had nothing to stand on in order to argue, and since she was already in the doghouse with Beatrice, it was best to tuck her tail and do as told.

  Not her style at all. But truly, what could she gain by refusing to cooperate?

  “Your service is greatly appreciated,” Beatrice said. “You and Mr. McNamara did a good job. Your nation will be grateful. Now complete your assignment.”

  The line went dead. Bree dropped the phone into her lap and scrubbed her face with her hands.

  Aidan grabbed her wrist and forced her to look at him. “What did he say?”

  Damn, she wished she could crawl back into bed with him. Feel him wrap his arms around her and make the world go away for a few more hours.

  “Etienne was playing the US and the Russians.” She explained everything Rory had told her, watching Aidan’s face fall.

  She hated seeing that expression, the slump of his shoulders, as he moved to stand. He’d held out hope there was some way they could salvage this.

  She’d wanted nothing more, had hoped Rory would be able to come up with something that would provide closure.

  Taking down Vaslov would have been the ultimate end to Aidan’s relationship with the CIA. It would have given both of them some peace, but now, they had nothing. Boris was still running loose, and surely he’d heard about Chardy, if he wasn’t behind it himself. There was nothing they could do at this point.

  Bree stood and slid her arms around his neck. “We’ll get him,” she promised. “If it’s the last thing I ever do, I will make sure we stop him.”

  Aidan leaned his forehead against hers, his hands going around her waist and tugging her closer. “I was doing it for you, you know. That bastard doesn’t deserve to walk the earth, and I wanted to end him. I wanted my face to be the last thing he saw before he died, so he would know what he did to you was the reason I came after him.”

  There was nothing else to say, nothing else to do. Bree went up on her toes and kissed him.

  Uncle Martin was counting on her to help with the Winter Lights Hop, and Bree was determined not to let him down. Since she wouldn’t be returning to D.C. just yet – she hadn’t had a chance to confirm with Aidan he’d leave his position here and go with her – she still had a commitment to her uncle.

  She handed out assignments, and extra staff filtered through the lobby, kitchen, and the spa areas that would be on display for the open house. Thank god for Megan, her uncle’s assistant. She was one of the most organized people Bree had ever met, and she understood how much Uncle Martin depended on her.

  Both front desk clerks were in attendance to book appointments for anyone who wanted to schedule a massage, facial, etc. Chef Condor had made additional Christmas cookies and pretty little tarts, and there was punch, eggnog, and hot chocolate.

  Everything was decorated beautifully, and Bree felt a pang of sadness that her mother wasn’t there to see it. The holidays had always been her favorite time of year, and she’d reveled in making the Gulf Breeze the most beautiful place around. It was like a fantasy land, and seeing all the decorations her mother had once used made Bree’s heart both happy and nostalgic.

  Her emotions were all muddled about Aidan too. She was excited and apprehensive about this new dynamic. She’d spent the last two years trying to convince herself, and him, they had no future, and yet here she was, doing just the opposite of what she’d planned.

  She’d fallen in love with him all over again, damn it. She’d never expected a reconciliation. If she got Aidan to join Shadow Force and go to DC, she’d intended to stay and help Uncle Martin. Joey was the most likely person to step in to Aidan’s shoes and take over security, but Uncle Martin would be upset to lose Aidan. He was such an integral part of the spa now.

  She and Aidan had made love again in his room, then slept a few more hours and rose just before noon. Because of the open house, they hadn’t had much time to talk, both needing to clean up and get ready. She’d come downstairs dressed in a red sparkling skirt and blouse and was looking for Aidan, when Joey went hustling past her. “Joey, have you seen Aidan?”

  “Uhh, he went to run an errand, probably for your uncle. Sorry, I just got here—had to help Mrs. Hiyak with a keycard malfunction, and hold her hand for a while. She’s needy—scared about her security—after the Chardy incident, you know.” Joey glanced at his watch. “He texted and said he’d be back before it officially starts, so it should be any minute now.”

  She felt slightly peeved neither Aidan nor her uncle had mentioned it to her, but why would they? She wasn’t part of the hotel’s “team” in reality, and before she could text Aidan, she was swept up in a conversation with one of the guests.

  Promptly at three o’clock, Megan opened the front doors and a stream of people flooded in, many dressed in holiday attire, and all of them oohing and ahhing over the decorations, the spread of food in the dining room, and filing through to take a tour of the spa service area.

  Uncle Martin and Princess Gracie were the hosts, both immensely enjoying being the center of attention. Uncle Martin lead the tours and snuck cookies for himself and the dog as he went.

  When there was no sign of Aidan after another hour, Bree purposely searched out her uncle and drew him aside from a conversation with two women, one being Loretta, the florist.

  “Have you seen Aidan?” he asked. “Joey said he was running an errand for you and was supposed to back by now. I can’t find him.”

  Anxiety was eating at her stomach, and while she wanted to enjoy the cookies and hot chocolate, she had no appetite.

  “He told me one of the security cameras was down and needed a part from town, so he was picking that up,” Martin said.

  Bree felt her stomach drop. She took off for the elevator, Uncle Martin calling behind her, “Is everything okay?”

  Everything was definitely not okay. Where had Aidan gone? Surely, he wasn’t still trying to make that meet with Vaslov? There was no way. Even if Boris showed up, he’d recognize Aidan and try to kill him.

  Upstairs in her room, she quickly changed clothes, grabbed her backpack, and loaded it with several items including her gun. She hustled downstairs and to the parking lot to find her car, not waiting for the valet.

  She’d just unlocked it and thrown her backpack in when she felt a blow to the back of her head. Her knees buckled, her body pitching forward.

  The sharp edge of the car door slammed in to her temple. Blackness surrounded her before she hit the ground.

  Nine

  Spies are social people, except when they’re not

  * * *

  God he hated parties. Aidan was almost glad he had to find a replacement for the parking lot camera that had suddenly stopped working. He needed to take a breather, get away for a few minutes, and regroup.

  He was fucking happy. No matter the fact his mission was a bust. Bree was his.

  He would hunt down Vaslov. He would never stop looking for the bastard. But for now, for tonight, he had what he wanted—his wife back.

  On his way across the bridge to the mainland, he considered going after him on his own. The original plan was to follow Chardy that night across the border to meet the spy master and rin
gleader. Once the man was on American soil, Aidan would’ve called the FBI, since they had jurisdiction, to arrest him, but not before he took a shot at getting the names of the last two spies embedded in South Texas.

  With no one to meet Vaslov, and the strong possibility the man knew what had happened to Chardy, Aidan doubted there was any reason to go tonight. Even if Vaslov showed by some miracle, he’d recognize Aidan and do his best to escape arrest. Since Aidan was working under a non-official cover, he’d be alone in Mexico going after a top Russian spy.

  He probably could’ve done it if he’d had backup, but Bree was the only person available, and that was out of the question. He never wanted her within shouting distance of Vaslov again.

  So instead, Aidan went to the only electronics store open on a Saturday night on the mainland, and picked up a temporary replacement.

  On his way back, he got stuck in traffic on the bridge, hundreds of people heading to the island for the Winter Lights Hop.

  Bree had called twice and left messages. “Where the hell are you?”

  She’d texted the same, and he’d been struggling whether to answer.

  He wanted Vaslov so bad he could taste it, and one of the reasons he hadn’t spoken to her before he left was because, in all honesty, he didn’t know what he was going to do. Taking off to the border appealed on many levels. Ending this tonight. Taking revenge for what Vaslov had done to Bree. It had scrambled his brain, and yet he was smart enough to know the futility of chasing after the man with no backup, and the possibility Vaslov wouldn’t show anyway.

  As long as he wasn’t moving, he texted a reply to Bree. “On my way with the new camera. Stuck in traffic, so may be a while.”

  He was so damn in love with her it hurt. All he’d wanted to do for the last couple years was end this nightmare with Vaslov on the loose. The game wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot, and Aidan was already considering a host of possibilities for taking the man down along with his compatriots.

  Twenty minutes later, he pulled into the Gulf Breeze Spa lot and shut off his vehicle. The lot was almost full, and as he stood across from the building, he noticed Bree’s car in the valet parking area, the driver’s side open.

  He stopped in mid-stride, nerves suddenly on alert. What the hell?

  People came and went, cars leaving and new ones replacing them. He scanned the area for Bree but couldn’t spot her.

  At her car, he found a backpack haphazardly tossed on the floor of the passenger seat, as if she’d thrown it there before sitting down.

  Where is she?

  Snatching it up, he closed the door and looked around again. She was nowhere to be seen, and his gut crawled with a sense of dread.

  Taking the backpack with him, he hustled in to find Joey, but came across Martin first.

  “Have you seen Bree?” he asked the man.

  Martin was in a circle of friends, smiling and happy. Loretta was laughing at a joke, it seemed. Princess Gracie was in his arms and he barely glanced at Aidan.

  Then, seeing Aidan’s expression, he did a double take. He moved away and searched Aidan’s face. “She was here just a minute ago,” he said. “Why do you look so worried?”

  “Did she go to her car to get something?”

  Martin shook his head and shrugged. “Not that I know of.”

  Aidan unzipped the backpack and looked at the contents – a set of clothes, a cell phone, a gun and bullets. The thing his gaze snagged on was the biggest – Chardy’s laptop. “This was in her car and the driver’s door was open. She’s nowhere in the parking lot.”

  Martin shrugged again. “Where would she go? She’s been hosting the open house.”

  Aidan took out his phone and dialed her number, the call going directly to voicemail.

  His stomach fell. Holy Jesus was she going after Vaslov?

  Joey spotted them and hustled up. “Hey, Wylin just told me the security camera for the parking lot is down. I’ve been tied up with guests and didn’t notice.”

  “I texted you about it earlier, but guess you were busy.” Aidan tossed him the replacement, holding out hope he was wrong. “Have you seen Bree?”

  “She was looking for you a minute ago,” Joey said. He glanced behind him, scanning the crush of people enjoying themselves. “Wonder where she took off to?”

  “Christ.” Aidan looked at the camera box, the backpack. His suspicious mind started snapping the pieces of the puzzle together. “Someone kidnapped her.”

  Both men looked at him in confusion. Martin’s voice rose an octave “What?”

  “What’s going on, boss?” Joey asked. “Why would someone kidnap Bree?”

  The kid didn’t know about her background, knew nothing about the spy ring or Aidan’s involvement with the CIA.

  He took off running toward the security room. Joey followed on his heels, Martin behind him. By the time the two burst into the room, Aidan already had Wylen, his night security guard, searching video footage of Bree leaving the building.

  Sure enough, they found it, but because of the broken camera, they lost her after she exited the side door.

  Aidan punched the countertop. “She never came back in. Someone grabbed her out there, that’s why her door was open. That’s why the fucking camera is broken.”

  “What the hell?” Joey murmured.

  Martin looked like he was going to be sick. “Why? Who? Do you think it’s the same person that killed Etienne Chardy?”

  “Can someone fill me in on what’s going on here?” Joey wanted to know.

  “Sorry,” Aidan said. “Later.”

  The sheer amount of people coming and going would make it impossible to figure out who might’ve kidnapped her and where they’d taken here. A roaring anger swept through Aidan – anger at himself as well as the kidnapper.

  He called her again, but got the same result and his mind swiftly calculated how long it would take to knock her on the back of the head and stuff her into a car pulled up next to hers. It could happen in the blink of an eye, and the jovial people at the open house would never notice.

  He felt as sick as Martin looked.

  “Show me the front entrance,” he told Wylen. “I want to look at every car that left from the time we lost Bree until five minutes later.”

  There were five vehicles, more entering than leaving. Only one was from out of town, the rest all had Texas plates, and Aidan felt his heart sink. There was no way to tell who might have taken her. He’d have to track down all five, and as quickly as possible. Time was not on his side; it had already been nearly an hour.

  Except…

  Scrolling through the contact list on his phone, he found the number Bree had given him for the head of Shadow Force International, Beatrice Reese. He hit the call button, clenched his jaw, and paced as it rang on the other end.

  “Mr. McNamara,” the woman said in greeting. “What have you done with my operative?”

  How did she know something was wrong? “She’s been kidnapped,” he ground out. “Tell me you have a tracker on her.”

  There was a charged pause. “You don’t?”

  “I used to.” He smacked the wall. “It was in her wedding band. I’m sure she disposed of it a long time ago.”

  “One moment, please.”

  Aidan pulled the phone from his ear and stared at it incredulously. His finger was poised over the disconnect button when she came back on and said, “The GPS tracking is still on and no, I won’t tell her. It appears she’s approximately three blocks from you at the Russian Orthodox Church.”

  Fuck. In his mind’s eye, he could see Bree’s dead body lying on the floor, bleeding out under a cross, or dumped in the graveyard out back. His knees nearly buckled and he swayed at the vision as Beatrice rattled off the address he didn’t need, remembering the exact location.

  He was in motion before she finished, Joey and Martin once more following in his wake as he ran all out for the parking lot. They yelled questions at him, but he didn’t answer u
ntil he was free of the building, dodging groups as he called back, “Get the police to the Russian Orthodox Church. It’s an emergency.”

  Of course with the traffic, it would take them two to three times as long to get there.

  Before he slid into his car, his phone rang. It wasn’t the Reese woman calling him. The cold calculating voice that sent a fresh wave of fear through him said with a heavy Russian accent, “I have the package you’re looking for.”

  In the background, Aidan heard Bree scream in pain and his blood ran cold. “You might want to get here before she bleeds out,” Vaslov cooed.

  His stomach went hollow. “What the fuck do you want?” The man had tortured him, nearly killed Bree the first time. Aidan could only image what he might be doing to her now.

  “To watch her bleed to death, but I’m willing to compromise. Bring me Chardy’s laptop, and I’ll keep her alive until you get here.”

  I’m going to fucking kill you.

  Forcing himself to breathe, Aidan glanced at the backpack on the passenger seat. “I have it and I’m on my way.”

  Honey pot

  * * *

  “You blew it you dumbass,” Bree huffed. The pain was unbearable.

  Boris was skilled with knives, and had cut her deeply in multiple places, while in others he simply peeled her skin away. Two of her fingernails were already gone and he was about to start on a third. “The laptop…was in my car. You could have snatched it…if you’d paid attention.”

  This area of the church was never seen by its parishioners. There were no ornate statues here, no gilded crosses or pictures of saints. It was a sterile room with a sink and drain, a chair and handcuffs. Vaslov, the spy master, was cleaning one of his instruments, Bree’s blood washing into the sink. “I already know what is on the laptop.”

  ..de laptop… His accent was harsh in the bare room, and it was all she could do not to give into the pain and fear that hearing it evoked. Those weeks under his control…

  Megan, Uncle Martin’s assistant, pulled Bree’s hair in order to align her upper body with the contraption she was strapping her into. It was one favored by assassins to make a death appear a suicide.