The Mogul (Necessary Lies Book 2)

by Alison Ryan

  “North Carolina should be…hmm…” He looked up at the sky and then pointed into the distance. “That way. This is a weather buoy. I should be able to send a message if I can get these wires to do what I want them to do. Not exactly the proper tools, but if there’s one thing SEAL training stresses, it’s improvisation.”

  “Atlas, Spencer, is he…” My voice cracked. Not out of concern for Spencer so much as my mind’s inability to cope with the events since waking up in that office back in Dubai.

  “He’ll never hurt you or anyone else ever again. I promise you that. But this isn’t over. The Coast Guard are on their way here right now. Hell, once they realize a Senator was on board, the Navy will be heading this way, too. Air Force, whatever’s in the area. Which means it’s imperative that I get this message out and we disappear. You’re a great swimmer, but I don’t think either of us can go one hundred and fifty miles right now, do you?”

  Atlas looked so magnificent I’d have believed him if he told me he was going to jump in the water and swim clear back across the Atlantic to the coast of France. He pulled several wires free, stripping them with his blade and twisting them together. He touched two bundles of wires together in a series of tapping motions.

  “Morse code,” he explained. “Hopefully somebody nearby will recognize it and rescue us before the military does – if not, we’re probably better off trying our luck with them.” Atlas motioned toward the sharks, five in number now.

  41

  ATLAS

  Twenty-four hours ago… (Dubai)

  I rose to my feet, trembling with rage. I wasn’t sure who I wanted to defenestrate more – Malcolm or QB, but I’d already made up my mind that they were both going out the window, bulletproof glass or not, and going to be splattered all over the pavement in about five seconds.

  Before I could take a step, however, Malcolm reminded me who was in charge.

  “Easy, big fella,” he commanded, fingering the trigger of a .50 caliber Desert Eagle. As fast as I was, there was no way I could get to either one of them before I had a hole through me large enough to drive a bus through.

  I stared long and hard at QB, knowing full well that no amount of macho posturing was going to intimidate him. He smiled as he spoke.

  “I’ll give you, hmm, what seems fair…seventy-two hours to complete the job? It’s not like you need to plan infiltration. Do it any way you want to. We’ll hold onto Piper, call it an insurance policy. As soon as the job is done, we’ll release her and you two lovebirds can be reunited. If, after three days your father is still walking around, I’ll assign the work to someone else. And you’ll still be reunited with Piper, but she won’t be nearly as pretty. Oh, or breathing, but you know how this works.” QB made it sound like he was sending me to the grocery store to pick up a gallon of milk and not to assassinate my own father under threat of having the woman I loved meet a gruesome demise.

  Piper was frantic, choking back sobs, and I felt my own throat closing and my heart racing.

  “Why? Why, dammit? My father has nothing to do with this world. And Piper certainly doesn’t.”

  QB smiled, playing up the wise, kindly old man charade. “Oh, Atlas, you know there’s never a ‘why.’ There’s simply an order and a good soldier who obeys the order. But it’s not personal, if that’s what you mean.”

  Malcolm spoke up from his hiding place behind the cannon in his hand. “Let’s just say that your father has made some large investments into industries developing technology that threaten the fortunes of some very influential people.”

  I wasn’t sure precisely where my dad invested all of his money, but I recalled seeing more than one prospectus for companies innovating in alternative energy sources. I knew how this game worked. I’d played it. Offers to acquire the companies or stifle the research had probably been made and rejected, thanks to the financial backing of Emerson Titan. Killing my father was an intimidation tactic. Rather than go after a dozen scientists and startup CEOs, just cut off their funding when they’re at their most vulnerable. Early days, when ideas outnumber patents and everything that looks great on paper has yet to go into profitable production.

  QB quieted Malcolm’s outburst with a wave of his hand. “Now Atlas, Piper will be leaving us. Say your farewells. Whether this goodbye is the permanent kind or you’ll be seeing each other soon is entirely up to you.”

  A door opening behind us caused Piper and I to both turn our heads to witness the arrival of a smiling Spencer Cameron.

  “Hello, Boss.” Spencer greeted QB warmly, turning on the full politician’s charm. He nodded to Malcolm, who returned the silent gesture. “And hello to you, Piper. It’s wonderful to see you again.”

  Spencer stood just out of my reach, in a position that afforded Malcolm a clear shot at me if I threatened any of them in any way. I turned my attention to Piper, who looking like she might vomit at any moment. I only had a few minutes left. I had to tell her as much as possible before they took her away from me.

  “Piper, look at me. Look in my eyes. I can’t do anything to stop them from taking you out of this room right now. But I promise you. I guarantee you. I will get you out of this. And every man in this room who’s threatened you will pay for it. We’re going to be apart for a while. A short while. But I will save you. Do you believe me?”

  Piper wiped a tear from her cheek and nodded her head.

  I took her face in my hands and kissed her, a kiss I never wanted to break. And then she was gone, along with Spencer and QB, leaving me alone in the room with Malcolm and his gun.

  “We’ll give them a few minutes to be on their merry way, Atlas. Then I’ll leave you alone. You have some work to do, probably some calls to make.” Malcolm reached in his pocket and produced a phone, my phone, and tossed it to me, casually. I couldn’t use it; he knew I knew that anything I did on that phone would go directly back to QB, but they hoped I might slip up out of desperation.

  Malcolm glanced at his own phone, cracked a smile, and stood up, his gun pointed at me the entire time.

  “This is where we say goodbye, big fella. But no kiss for me, thanks. Don’t forget, the clock is running.”

  With that, he was gone. And there I sat, in Dubai, with nothing but the clothes on my back and a bugged phone. Oh, and an order to kill my own father. Under threat that the woman I loved would be killed should I fail.

  I hadn’t felt so lost, broken, or hopeless since the early days of SEAL BUD/S training. But if could make it through that, I would make it through this. Or die trying.

  42

  PIPER

  Present-Day…

  “Listen carefully, Piper. I’m going to need you to be brave for me. If this is going to work, you’ll have to do exactly as I say. Okay?”

  As if I could refuse anything a glistening, shirtless Atlas Titan asked of me anyway, I nodded in the affirmative.

  “I’ve sent out an S.O.S. If we’re lucky, there’s a fishing vessel nearby without too many men aboard. If there is, we’re going to hijack it. Nobody knows I was on that plane, and I doubt there’s any record of you being there, either. If we can get to shore, we disappear. They’ll know a man and a woman were fished out of the ocean, maybe even connect the dots that we were survivors of the crash. But they won’t know who we are. So if it can be avoided, we leave no fingerprints behind. I need your shirt. We’ve got to wipe this buoy down. A beautiful woman in just a bra is going to be more distracting to our rescuers, anyway. Can you do this?”

  I didn’t relish the thought of being discovered in just my bra, but what Atlas said made sense, and I pulled the soaking wet garment up and over my shoulders.

  The hungry way Atlas stared at me made me blush. “You can’t look at me like that!”

  “Like what, Piper?”

  “Like a hungry, salivating lion. Like you want to devour me.”

  “You’re very perceptive. That’s exactly what I want to do.”

  Staring at the eye-level bulge in his ripped, bloo
d-stained pants gave me the same desire. The shudder I felt had nothing at all to do with cold ocean water or exposure.

  “Do you hear that? From over there.” Atlas pointed over my right shoulder, and focusing my ears I heard the faint hum of an engine over the sound of lapping waves.

  “Is that a boat?” I asked. We both looked up at a jet flying high overhead, but once it passed, the sound of an approaching vessel was unmistakable.

  “When they get close enough, wave them down. I’m going below deck.”

  “What do you…below? Atlas, you can’t! There are sharks all over the place!”

  “I’ll be fine. We need the element of surprise if this is going to work. I’ll swim across and board the boat while everybody’s fixated on you. And believe me, they’ll definitely be fixated on such a sexy damsel in distress. Once I’m aboard, follow my lead. We commandeer the vessel and get it back to shore. No names once we’re on board, and try not to touch anything if you can help it. We want to get off and disappear. Leave no trace. I’m going in the water now; they’ll be able to see us before we see them. I don’t want to give them any reason to believe you’re anything but alone. Kiss me.”

  Clumsily, I straightened up as much as I could in the center of the buoy, throwing my arms around the thick, muscled neck of Atlas Titan. He kissed me hard, his hand at the small of my back, pulling me in as tight as possible. It was a kiss I never wanted to break, not only because the man I loved was going to be jumping, bleeding, into shark-infested waters, but simply because Atlas was such a fantastic kisser.

  When the kiss finally ended, he stared into my soul with those impossible eyes of his.

  “I love you, Piper.”

  “I love you too, Atlas.”

  With that, he used my shirt to wipe down the panel where he’d been working, then the struts on the buoy. Finally, he tossed the shirt back to me and I tucked it into the waistband of my pants.

  He turned to me one last time, knife in hand. “Do you like sushi?”

  His levity facing death caught me off-guard, and I couldn’t help but laugh, nodding enthusiastically. There was a splash, and suddenly the fins that had been circling us seemed to disappear all at once. And I was alone.

  On the horizon, a boat approached.

  43

  ATLAS

  Twenty-four hours Ago…

  Seeing Spencer made my skin crawl, and knowing he again had Piper at his mercy turned my stomach. If I could get near him, I intended to kill him. With my bare hands, if need be. But to get near him, and Piper, I had to get to them before they left the country. My father needed protection, needed to be warned, but Piper needed saving more.

  I knew anything I did on my phone would be intercepted, but being able to read a message and being able to decipher it are two entirely different things.

  I brought up my brother Odin’s name on my phone, and said a silent prayer that he hadn’t forgotten. We hadn’t had reason to use “Titanese” in many years, but I banked on him remembering.

  Growing up, my three brothers and I loved playing cops and robbers, army, hide and go seek, and a game we made up called “manhunt.” Manhunt had a fluid set of rules, but it was a game that would sometimes run for days and even weeks. We’d include our nannies, friends, and whoever else could help us achieve our imaginary objectives. Very cat and mouse, spy vs spy, full of intrigue and espionage. Double agents were everywhere, traps and disguises could be elaborate, and at times, messages had to be left.

  I credit Manhunt for guiding my life not only in the direction of the military, but into special ops and then black ops.

  Odin and I developed an intricate code, a language we called “Titanese.” It wasn’t a spoken language, but we used it to leave notes, write messages in snow, mud, and sand, and to get our stories straight when we needed out of a jam with our folks or a teacher. By high school we’d perfected it to the point we could write messages back and forth in plain view of others, adults or peers, and nobody could read a word of it.

  I sent him a text message in our secret code explaining, succinctly as I could, the situation I was in, and asked that he contact our father. I ended the message in plain English: To whom it may concern: Get right with the Lord. I’m coming.

  Within minutes, my phone buzzed. Odin. “10-4.” He’d received the message, my father would take the necessary steps to beef up his security, and I could focus on Piper. And my prey.

  44

  PIPER

  Present-Day…

  I felt the entire buoy move once and then twice, jerks from below, and then a red slick covered the top of the water a few feet out. The blood froze in my veins as I was waited for something, anything, to breach the surface.

  When the shredded body of a dying shark bobbed to the surface, quickly attacked and torn to pieces by two others, I exhaled. When the face of my lover broke through the waves, I wept. He was fighting for his life, for my life. Despite the situation, I’d never felt more protected.

  While the bloody water ballet continued behind me, I rose to my feet and swung my shirt overhead, trying to get the attention of the fishing vessel bearing down on my location.

  Within minutes, it was alongside me, five wide-eyed men staring at me in disbelief. If I’d turned into a mermaid right at that moment, I don’t think any of them would have been surprised.

  I’d last seen Atlas over two minutes ago, and I feared the worst. I was grateful for the rescue, but part of me wanted to beg the rough-hewn fishermen to search for Atlas, to save him as well.

  They pulled me aboard, covering me with blankets, asking a thousand questions at once. Where had I come from? How did I send that message? Was I part of whatever crashed out there? I had to be. What was it? Who was I?

  I kept repeating “je ne comprends pas l'anglais,” hoping none of them had taken enough high school French to recognize my laughable command of the language.

  Just then, the attention of the crew turned to a loud thud below deck, where one of their number had gone to tend to something. Two men went to investigate, but instead of either of them returning, it was Atlas who climbed the ladder and squared off with the burly first mate. The captain bolted for the cabin, and, I assumed, the radio, which I couldn’t let happen. Channeling my inner Atlas, I stuck out a leg, sending him crashing to the deck as he moved past me. I leapt onto his back, doing my best to delay him until Atlas was finished.

  I turned just in time to see a right hand uppercut send the man Atlas was fighting to the floor, and I locked eyes with my protector. A smile crossed his face, the smile of a delighted child, and I caught a glimpse of Atlas as a little boy.

  “I should have let you fight the sharks, you wildcat!” Atlas exclaimed.

  The captain shrugged me off, but by then Atlas stood between him and the cabin and his shoulders slumped in resignation.

  “Relax, friend. All we need is a ride back to shore. A nice, quiet ride. No radio, no phone calls. Just get us to solid ground and you and your crew are free to go. I can pilot this craft. Any funny business and all five of you can put on life vests and try your luck with the sharks. So sit back and relax. I apologize for the wasted day. Hope you catch lots of fish tomorrow. Oh, and I’ll need that big fella’s shirt.” Atlas pointed at the man sprawled on the deck who he’d knocked out last.

  The captain looked equal parts confused and relieved and tended to his men. Atlas collected their phones and anything they could use as weapons and placed them in the hold, pointing us toward the shore.

  45

  ATLAS

  Eighteen hours ago…

  If I knew QB, he was already in the air. Despite the craziness that closed the airport and choked most commerce in the city, he was a man who always found a way.

  I might luck into him, but he’d likely have to wait for another time and place. Malcolm and Spencer, however, were still around. I could smell them. The thought of what they might be doing to Piper had me ready to burn the entire city down in order to stop them
, but if I was to save her, precision was the order of the day.

  I hated to resort to petty theft, but I did what was necessary to put a few dirhams in my pocket, some food in my belly, and get my hands on some parachutes and a weapon. The dust storms would have the airport closed until at least the next morning, giving me time to stake things out, find Malcolm’s plane, and find a way on board.

  Odin sent word that dad was bunkered and in no danger. I only wished I had such assurance regarding Piper.

  A stolen Bentley and a bluff got me onto the airfield as a driver. I hoped to avoid direct confrontation until I was face to face with Spencer or Malcolm, but an overzealous airport security guard discovered me sneaking around the private jets and I had to send him to his seventy-two-virgin eternal reward. I regretted what I had to do, but nothing and no one was going to keep me from Piper.

  I spirited myself aboard after watching Malcolm’s plane receive its final preflight inspection and fueling. I stashed the parachute I’d been able to acquire under the bed, where I hoped it wouldn’t be discovered, and I hid myself in the rear lavatory. With any luck, we’d be in the air before anyone had reason to use it. If I was facing off against Spencer and Malcolm, and potentially some security, it wouldn’t hurt to have the element of surprise on my side. Not to mention the fact that once we were in the air it was almost a certainty that any combat would be hand to hand. None of them were likely to be foolish enough to discharge a firearm in a pressurized cabin.