Power Move (Alexander King Book 4)

by Bradley Wright

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  Also By Bradley Wright

  Alexander King

  THE SECRET WEAPON

  COLD WAR

  MOST WANTED

  POWER MOVE

  ENEMY LINES

  Alexander King Prequels

  WHISKEY & ROSES

  VANQUISH

  KING’S RANSOM

  KING’S REIGN

  SCOURGE

  Lawson Raines

  WHEN THE MAN COMES AROUND

  SHOOTING STAR

  Saint Nick

  SAINT NICK

  SAINT NICK 2

  Copyright © 2021 by Bradley Wright

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  Bradley Wright/King’s Ransom Publishing

  www.bradleywrightauthor.com

  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead,

  or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  POWER MOVE/ Bradley Wright. -- 1st ed.

  ISBN -

  For Randy Berry

  Thanks for always challenging my beliefs with only the best of intentions. You were one of the good ones.

  “There are so many ways to be brave in this world. Sometimes bravery involves laying down your life for something bigger than yourself, or for someone else. Sometimes it involves giving up everything you have ever known, or everyone you have ever loved, for the sake of something greater. But sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes it is nothing more than gritting your teeth through pain, and the work of every day, the slow walk toward a better life.”

  Veronica Roth

  1

  London, United Kingdom

  It was a warm summer day in London, and cold rain fell from the sky. The clouds had parted in the distance, and the faint glow of a rainbow hovered over the stone building that guarded the entrance to catacomb at Kensal Green Cemetery. The burial grounds were a mix of bright green grass-covered rolling hills and mildew-ridden gothic statues and headstones stained by the long passing of time. It was also the last place Alexander King thought he would ever be.

  Visiting the cemetery itself for a funeral wasn’t what surprised him; it was the person being buried that had shocked both himself and Kyle Hamilton. King and Kyle were completely unaware that their partner and friend, Samantha Harrison, had been friends enough with anyone else to be invited to attend their funeral. So imagine their surprise when they learned the funeral they were attending was for her ex-husband. An ex Sam had failed to mention for the near decade they’d all known her.

  The three of them were standing at the back of the small crowd of people gathered around the casket. The only reason any of them were there was because Kyle and King wouldn’t let Sam skip the service. She’d wanted no part of being there. But for their own curiosity and amusement, the two of them had practically forced her to go, and they’d insisted on tagging along. They were already in London attempting to recruit agents to join their newly formed mercenary team, so it just made sense to run over and make Sam say good-bye. Needless to say, she was not happy about it.

  “I can’t believe I’m standing here,” Sam whispered to King.

  “Shh,” King shushed her with a smile. “Come on, Sam, show some respect for the love of your life.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  This type of ribbing had been going on nonstop for the last twenty-four hours when they’d all found out about her ex-husband. Sam had never been anything close to an open book, but leaving out a life event such as marriage was secretive even for her. According to Sam, the reason she’d never talked about it was because it was a mistake she’d forgotten about long ago. However, like this one, secrets almost never stay buried. The irony in Sam’s case was that the burial was the reason for the secret being unearthed. Verbal jabs had been coming at Sam without end, and King could see in her eyes that she was getting quite tired of it.

  The chaplain who’d been speaking at the head of the casket finished with a prayer. Much to Sam’s relief, the ceremony ended.

  “Finally,” Sam said. “Now can we go and grab a pint?”

  “I’m disappointed there wasn’t a picture or something by the casket,” Kyle said. “I wanna see the man who roped in the badass Sammy Harrison. Wait, is your last name really Harrison?”

  It was at least the fifth time Kyle had asked the question. The three of them began walking down the path toward the exit.

  “You know,” Sam said to Kyle, “When I first told Xander you were coming with me to Mexico to see him for the first time since you’d thought him dead, I’d told him that you had matured. I see the two of you have digressed in the last couple of months back in each other’s loving arms.”

  “Was that a dig?” King said. “Kyle, I’m pretty sure Sam was trying to imply that we’re lovers.”

  King paused for a moment. “Well, Sam, I guess since Kyle and I have learned your secret, it’s time we share ours with you.”

  “Stop.”

  King turned Sam by the shoulders to face him and Kyle. Then he put his arm around Kyle’s shoulder.

  “We’re getting married.”

  “I hate both of you.”

  The three of them laughed as they approached the street just outside the cemetery.

  “Now, take me to get that pint,” Sam said as she motioned for a cab.

  “Sounds good to me,” Kyle said.

  The black taxicab pulled up, and King opened the door for Sam.

  “Ms. Harrison?” a man said from the sidewalk behind them.

  Sam stopped her momentum and turned to face the man who’d called out to her. King watched as the man extended a white letter-sized envelope in her direction.

  Sam didn’t take the envelope. “What’s this?”

  “Sorry, my name is Nathan Maxwell. I’m a senior vice president at Barclays Bank here in London. I was also a friend of your ex-husband. In the event of his death, I was instructed to give this to you. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “No loss of mine,” Sam said. “But I’m sorry you lost a friend.”

  Sam took the envelope and turned to enter the cab.

  “Okay then. Nice meeting you,” Nathan said.

  Sam waived from inside the cab. That was all the man was going to get. Kyle and King followed Sam inside, and King shut the door. The cab pulled away. Sam just sat motionless in her seat, holding the envelope and staring out the window. Both Kyle and King were staring at her. Sam finally noticed.

  “What?”

  “You know what, Sam,” King said. “Open it!”

  Sam tucked the envelope inside her purse and turned back to the window. “The Cross Keys pub,” she told the cab driver.

  “You can’t be serious,” Kyle said. “Your dead ex, who you haven’t seen in over a decade, leaves you this mysterious letter, and you aren’t already tearing it open to see what’s inside?”

  Sam looked over at Kyle. “I don’t give a damn what’s inside. You didn’t know Thomas. Everything he touched turned to trouble. Whatever is in this envelope, I promise you, is better left unread.”

  “You’re going to open that enve
lope, Sam,” Kyle said.

  “I’m not.”

  King couldn’t help but smile. It had been a long time since anything had felt normal. And though Alexander King’s life would never be described by anyone as normal, this was it for him. He was back with his friends, making his own rules and living by his own code. The goal of keeping his country safe was still the same, but this was just a much better way for him to go about it.

  Kyle reached for the corner of the envelope jutting up from the opening in Sam’s black purse. Sam slapped his hand away so hard that the cab driver checked his rearview to make sure everything was all right. Though Sam smirked at Kyle as he pulled back his hand, and as funny as the situation was, King could see the slightest bit of worry behind Sam’s eyes. There was a lot more to her and her ex’s decade-old relationship. If King wasn’t curious about that envelope before, he sure was now that he could see Sam’s inner turmoil.

  The cab pulled up to the pub. Sam’s goal upon entering was very different than King’s. She wanted to get drunk to forget the past. He wanted her lips loose enough to spill gossip. And eventually to get that envelope open. Time would tell who was going to win that battle. Either way, drinks were about to flow.

  2

  The rain clouds had given way to blue skies. Not the most common thing in London, but welcomed with open arms by the masses. The streets surrounding The Cross Keys pub near Trafalgar Square in the Covent Garden neighborhood were filling up. Pubs were overflowing, laughter was echoing, and chants for a football match were rising and falling with the action.

  King and his friends didn’t care for the match, but the drinks were hitting in all the right places. The day had turned so nice that the pubs had brought tables outside. Everyone was drowning in sunshine and ale. King wasn’t normally a beer man, but the bourbon selection for the Kentucky boy wasn’t up to par, so he went with the crowd. After a few, he could see that Sam was finally starting to relax.

  “All right,” King said, “you’ve kept us in the dark long enough, Samantha. It’s time you spill it on the old man no one ever knew you had.”

  “And ruin a perfectly brilliant afternoon?” Sam said. She sounded annoyed, but she was smiling. She pulled her long dark hair back into a ponytail, and the muscles in her thin but toned arms rippled beneath her black tank top.

  “What the hell else are we going to talk about?” King said.

  “How ’bout your love life?”

  King put the mug to his lips and just kept drinking until the beer was gone. Hoping the question would also go away.

  Sam took a drink herself. “Mm hmm. Not so fun when it’s about you. And I’m disappointed, I really liked Cali.”

  “Wish I could have met her,” Kyle said.

  Whether it was meant to be a dig at King for leaving Kyle out of his life for two years or not, the alcohol sensitivity kicked in and King took it as such. But he let it go.

  “She’s not gone,” King said. “But she lives in Alaska, for God’s sake. And I chase bad guys worlds away. This work isn’t really conducive to growing a loving relationship halfway across the globe.”

  “And now you know the story of Thomas and myself,” Sam said.

  “Come on, Sam,” Kyle said. “You have to do better than that. It’s us.”

  Sam sat up in her chair, slid her black sunglasses down her nose, and eyed the two men in her life as she leaned forward, elbows on the table. “You’ll get the short version, then we’ll be done with this. Got it?”

  Kyle and King looked at each other, then at Sam. “Got it.”

  Sam let out a sigh. “I was twenty-four, just getting my feet wet with British intelligence. Management was sticking me with the easy stuff—surveillance, intel gathering, and paperwork. I was getting a coffee one morning as I watched a prominent Italian gangster, Mario Vicenza, do the same, when a man named Thomas Bishop sat down with him. MI5 didn’t want anything with Vicenza; they just wanted to make sure he wasn’t going to start trouble in the UK. When their coffee was finished and the two of them left, my waitress dropped off a biscuit with my paid check. The napkin beneath read, ‘Something sweet for someone spicy.’”

  King laughed. “Cheesy, but I’ll allow it.”

  Sam took a drink of her beer. “The next day Thomas sent flowers to our makeshift office and called moments later to welcome me to the neighborhood. I should have run right then when Thomas told me he made it his business to know everything that goes on in his neighborhood. And that I was one thing he never would have missed. Six months later we were married. We were never happy, only in love with the idea of each other.”

  “That’s it?” Kyle said.

  “Glorious, right?”

  “What did he do for a living?” Kyle said.

  “Arms dealer to the queen’s army and her agencies.”

  “Legit?”

  Sam raised an eyebrow.

  “How long were you together?” King asked.

  “Together? Two years. Married? Twelve.”

  “Twelve?” Both King and Kyle gasped at the same time.

  “You were going through a divorce a couple of years ago and didn’t say anything about it?” King said. “What the hell, Sam?”

  “There was nothing to tell at that point. I hadn’t spoken to him in almost a decade. Then his lawyer wanted us to end it officially. No need for fanfare.”

  “Fanfare? How ’bout friendfare? That is something you tell friends, you know,” Kyle said.

  “Who cares?” Sam said. “It was over when I met you two. The divorce was a formality.”

  King flagged down the waitress and ordered another round, but this time he added three shots of whiskey. Sam was quiet.

  “Except it isn’t over,” King said as he nodded toward her purse. “Not for Thomas anyway.”

  “It is over.”

  “You’re not even curious?” Kyle said, his tone still astonished.

  Sam leaned back and crossed her legs. “Listen, boys. I don’t know what is in that envelope, but I can still tell you what it is.”

  “What?” King said.

  “Trouble.” Sam took her beer mug from the waitress, took a long drink, then set it on the table. “It’s all Thomas ever was, and that’s all that envelope will be. So it will stay sealed.”

  “You’re somethin’ else,” King said.

  Sam just shrugged off the comment.

  “Okay, well, that was no fun,” Kyle said, then changed the subject. “Where are we on recruiting?”

  “You moving this to a business conversation?” King said. “The hell is wrong with you?”

  “Sam won’t indulge us for any fun details, so what the hell else are we going to talk about?”

  King looked back over his shoulder. There was a group of four women who looked to be somewhere in their late twenties, laughing and day drinking. “Well, for starters, you would usually be talking about them. If not already talking to them.”

  “Yes,” Sam said. “Enough about me, what is your problem, Kyle? Something is clearly bothering you if you are still at the table with us and not with them.”

  Kyle shrugged as he took a long drink.

  Sam sat forward. “You’re seeing someone, aren’t you?”

  Kyle didn’t stop drinking.

  “You son of bitch,” King said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Kyle finally set the mug down. “It’s new. Relax. Both of you.”

  The waitress set shots in front of each of them. King picked his up and raised it in the air.

  “For Zhanna.”

  The three of them clinked shot glasses and downed the Jameson in honor of their fallen friend. It had only been a couple of months, and the wound was still raw.

  “Okay, so, to your question, Kyle,” Sam said, “I think I speak for all of us when I say that so far I haven’t been impressed enough with anyone to bring them onto the team.”

  “I agree,” King said. “Some good people with some great skills, but we can only accept the b
est when our lives are on the line.”

  Sam laughed. “Good thing you didn’t feel that way a few years ago when you insisted Kyle tag along.”

  “Yeah?” Kyle said. “Things are different now. As you saw back in Langley.”

  “Just a joke, Kyle,” Sam said. “You’re still as sensitive as ever.”

  “Me?” Kyle took offense.

  “All right,” King jumped in. “How about Patrick O’Connor? He was good with you in Russia, right?”

  “He was good,” Sam said. “He’s still rough around the edges, but he has potential. He’s on assignment right now. He told me he would reach out when that concluded.”

  “Guess it’s good we don’t really have a job to do yet,” King said.

  “Oh, there are jobs,” Kyle said. “You just haven’t wanted to take any of them.”

  Kyle was right. Sam had brought a number of jobs to the table in the past month, but King had been reluctant to jump into anything. Word had been getting out that the president had let King, Sam, and Kyle break away from the CIA. As long as they kept their promise to come running if he ever had a crisis that their particular sets of skills could help the United States with, they were free to go out on their own. Since then, more than a few governments, corporations, and even criminals had been inquiring.

  “Anyway,” King said, “the sun is shining and the drinks are flowing. Let’s just enjoy one evening like normal people. Can we do that?”

  Sam sat forward and offered her glass for a cheers. Kyle grabbed his mug and put it in.

  King touched glasses with a smile. “To seeing what’s in that damn envelope before the night is over.”

  “Cheers to that!” Kyle said.

  “Not on your life,” Sam said with a shake of her head.

  They enjoyed their cold drinks and the rest of the evening. And it was good they did, too, because it wouldn’t be long before King and Kyle would wish they’d listened to Sam and kept that envelope sealed.