by Lexi Blake
She couldn’t even think about sleeping. Not when she needed to get away. It was time to leave. Ian didn’t want her and she didn’t want to get anyone killed. She’d thought they would only come after her, but today had proven that her uncle was willing to hurt civilians to get to her. She’d thought she would have more time before they found her. Hell, she’d thought that maybe they had given up. She’d been in Florida for over a year working on the op that brought her back to Ian and no one had tried to kill her then. After so long without hearing from her uncle, she’d felt almost safe. Safe enough to come after her husband.
She’d been wrong and it was time to leave. After a little rest, she needed to get Chelsea and clear out of here.
The closest she’d managed to going to bed was changing into one of Ian’s massive T-shirts. It would have to do for sleepwear. It hung to her knees, covering more than a lot of dresses did.
“So you’re married to the big guy, huh?” Basil Champion sat down on the couch across from her, a longneck in his hand. He draped himself almost negligently across Ian’s big comfy couch.
“Not really.” She wasn’t sure why the British agent wanted to talk about her marriage, but she wasn’t getting into it with him.
“That’s not what the paperwork says, love. It’s just hard to believe you’re here. I was there the night you died, you see. I actually got a decent look at your body. Damon and me had to get Big Tag away from the police. Our bosses thought he might suffer a bit in jail.”
He likely would have been killed there. Nelson would have sent an assassin and then he wouldn’t have had to worry about Ian Taggart screwing up his plans. She’d known it, but she’d still taken that pill. Maybe she didn’t deserve to be forgiven. Maybe this had all been a huge mistake. “I’m sure he was grateful.”
Baz took a long draw off the beer before replying. “Nah. He was too upset. I remember thinking this was supposed to be some sort of superhero. You know, he was kind of a legend even though he’d only been working for a few years. I thought I was about to meet the real shit, but he was kind of broken, know what I mean?”
She felt a little broken now, but she still didn’t want to talk about her personal life with an MI6 agent. “So you’re here to drag me kicking and screaming to England?”
He huffed a little, an arrogant sound. “No way. We wouldn’t conduct this particular interview on British soil. Damon is being a bit of an idealist. I suspect we’ll take you back to London and you won’t make it out of Heathrow before the big bosses take you off of our hands and whisk you away to someplace nice and outside the confines of all those pesky human rights laws we have. Really, they’re so confining when it comes to torture.”
So she would be taken to some friendly government in Africa or the Middle East and they would torture her until she gave up the info. What they didn’t realize was that Chelsea was the one behind most of the information brokering. Charlie was mostly muscle. The information Charlie had dealt to specific governments hadn’t made them any money, but probably saved a bunch of lives. Chelsea hadn’t been happy with her those times. Chelsea was the brains, but she didn’t intend for that information to get out. “I haven’t directly come up against MI6. Why are you coming after me now?”
He sat up, his feet hitting the floor. “Are you going to play dumb, then, love? You hacked our systems three months ago. You were polite about it. You got in, took three files, and got right back out. If we didn’t have some very observant techs, we would never have known you were there at all.”
Fuck. Chelsea had promised her she would stay out of MI6, the Agency, and China’s MSS. They were the three countries most likely to catch her and string her up, though in this case it would be Charlie on the end of the rope. She settled in. It wasn’t the first time she’d been forced to cover for her sister. “I wasn’t trying to fuck with MI6. I just needed a couple of files.”
“On Eli Nelson? Were you working for Taggart?”
Ah, her interrogation started now. At least she could answer those questions. “Eli Nelson is after me. I am not now nor have I ever worked for Ian or McKay-Taggart. I have, however, worked for Eli Nelson. We had a bad parting of ways.”
“From what I can tell, you parted ways on your terms, not his.”
He was well informed. “I never meant to work for the man on a permanent basis.”
“No, you just used him to kill your father.”
She shrugged a little. “It would have been difficult to do the job myself.”
It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it, dreamed about it. She just hadn’t figured out how to do it and save Chelsea and herself at the same time. It was why she’d taken Nelson’s devil’s pact.
“But you’re quite effective at other work. You could be very valuable to someone like Nelson. Or someone like Taggart.”
She laughed a little. “You can’t imagine that I’ve been working for Ian all these years. He had no idea I was alive. I think that’s funny since you and your partner obviously did.”
An innocent look came over Baz’s face. It was a handsome face, but there was something dark about the man. “Now, I’m deeply offended. I assure you if Damon had known that Ian Taggart’s long lost wife was alive and well, he would have contacted the man. He’s very loyal when it comes to his friends. No, we’ve only known you as The Broker. We started to suspect The Broker was a woman last year when a million dollars stolen from the Taliban showed up in a fund for educating women in Afghanistan.”
That had totally been Charlie’s idea. It had been a fun day all around. “I’m a feminist.”
“You’re an anarchist,” Baz retorted, but there was very little judgment in his tone. “And you’re playing with fire. If your ‘clients’ ever figured out that you play them against each other, you’ll have more than your uncle and Eli Nelson out to kill you.”
A girl had to have a hobby. Hers just happened to be causing chaos for some of the world’s worst terrorists and criminals. It was fun. “I tend to be very careful about who I do business with.”
Chelsea usually had a deft hand about not getting caught with her fingers in the cookie jar. Which was good because the cookie jar was probably rigged with explosives.
“But you really got on our radar a year ago. We had an operative in one of the terrorist cells you did some work for.”
A little smile crossed her face. She’d enjoyed that little side project. “Sorry. I shut that down faster than your operative could. He was slow.”
They had received information about a cell working to strike at several of Europe’s public transportation systems in a coordinated effort to topple the economy. She kind of liked Europe. It was really hard to plan an operation like that when all the money disappeared.
“Our operative was working his way up the food chain. You blew the whole thing right out of the water. The cell turned on each other. Our operative watched while they accused each other of taking it. He was accused as well. He barely made it out alive.”
So they had multiple reasons for disliking her. She’d upset their plans. “I wasn’t in on the MI6 project. I simply saw a problem and I solved it. They were planning on releasing sarin gas into the air filtration systems of the undergrounds in London, Berlin, Paris, and Rome. They were ready to buy the gas. Your operative was too slow. I wasn’t willing to risk a couple hundred thousand people and the European economy because your guy wanted to move up. I also think you’ll find that I tipped off the cell’s plans to the Agency.”
His jaw firmed. “Yes, they didn’t mind holding that over our heads. Might I ask why you didn’t come directly to us?”
“I consider myself to be American.” She was her mother’s daughter, and her mother was from California. She’d always wanted to go home, but had settled her daughters on the East Coast in an attempt to hide from their father. He’d still found them.
“You were born in Moscow.”
“But I was happy here. My mother was American. I gave up my Russian ci
tizenship, or I would if I could actually show my face at a government office. I send bits and pieces along to the Agency from time to time and they dispense it as they see fit. But Ian has nothing to do with that. He’s spent the last couple of years working strictly for himself.”
Baz’s eyes narrowed. “Not only for himself. He’s still in good with the Agency. He wouldn’t have been able to do all that work in England without having a few good contacts. Damon is high on him.”
She wasn’t sure she trusted Damon Knight. “He didn’t seem real high on Ian back at Alex’s. He seemed pretty pissed when Ian had a gun on him.”
“Ian only got the drop on him because Simon was following us. Bloody bastard. Otherwise you would be on your way out of the country.” He sat up, straightening his shirt. “Aren’t you tired of running?”
That was a dumb question. “Of course I’m tired.”
Baz sent a little look behind him, glancing into the kitchen. A laugh boomed from the neatly appointed room. At least Ian found something amusing. The British agent turned back, leaning in. “What if you didn’t have to run anymore? What if you could settle down with all the money you’ve made and find a place where a woman of your talents could, shall we say, excel?”
“What are you trying to say?” If he was going to make an offer, she would rather he just came out and said it. Because the truth was she was tired. The thought of running again made her violently ill, but if she managed to get out of this situation, she would have to do it. She would have to take Chelsea and hide somewhere, and then they would hide somewhere else, and so on and so on until they were caught and killed or managed to make it to old age. She’d made her play for Ian and she’d lost, and she had no real idea what she should do next.
“I’m trying to say that you could do well for yourself. We’re not all like the Agency. Not all organizations will use you and dump you. Some organizations would do much to be able to properly use all your talents.”
Did MI6 want to torture her or hire her?
Should she listen to a proposal?
“I can’t settle down. Not really. I thought I might be able to, but they found me really fast.” It had been a calculated risk, allowing Adam to run traces on her identity, but she hoped her uncle had relaxed his stance. It had been years and the syndicate tended to focus on business. But she’d had no luck. Her uncle was eager to kill her, and she suspected it was because Nelson had double crossed her. Of course, she’d done the same to him, so she couldn’t cry that she was innocent.
“There are always solutions to problems. Sometimes it just takes a willingness to get one’s hands dirty.” Baz set his empty bottle down on the table. “We all know the Agency doesn’t like to get blood on its hands. It would rather farm out that work to its friends. They won’t help you. They’ll deny that you’ve ever helped them.”
She’d always known that. “I didn’t expect them to give me a job recommendation.”
He shook his head. “You’re not thinking big enough. The world is changing, and women like you can make a place for yourself.”
“I think Charlie doesn’t know her place at all.” Ian was standing in the doorway, his broad frame dominating the space. “I asked you to go to bed.”
“You told me to go to bed,” she corrected. “I thought I should find out if I was going to be catching a plane tomorrow.”
He frowned, shaking his head as though she’d said something a little crazy. “No. I’ve worked something out with Damon. I told you I would.”
Damon Knight good-naturedly shoved his way past Ian, joining his partner on the couch. Unlike Baz, he had a glass of Scotch. “You’re going to give me everything you have. I mean every single hard drive you own.”
“What?”
Ian’s face was a stony mask. “You’re getting out of the business.”
She let the words settle over her because they didn’t make a lick of sense for a few moments. “You made this decision?”
“Yes.”
The arrogance of the man astounded her. She stood, unwilling to sit while he loomed over her. “I won’t do it.”
She would rather go with Knight back to England and take her chances there. At least Chelsea would have some protection.
He stepped up, invading her space. “You fucking well will. Adam is going to your place to get the computers tonight.”
“You can’t do that.” She clenched her fists, angry tears in her eyes. What the hell was he thinking? How could he do this to her? To Chelsea? “We need that information.”
It was their protection, a wall against the world. It was the only thing they had.
“No, you don’t. You’re out of the business from now on. The money you stole or made from selling information is going to be divided between MI6 and the Agency, and it goes straight into their anti-terrorism budgets.”
“What?” It came out as an angry screech. She couldn’t run without money. She couldn’t hide. Panic threatened to overtake her.
Ian’s hand came out, gripping her arm. He looked over at the Brit crew. “We’ll take this discussion to the bedroom. Chelsea is in one of the upstairs rooms. Alex and Eve are bedding down in the dungeon. You two can fight over the last bedroom. Don’t hurt each other, though. It’s got something called a daybed that won’t actually fit either one of you. The other one can take the couch. I don’t give a shit.”
He started hauling her out of the living room.
“Ian, this is not happening.” She wasn’t going to allow him to take every bit of protection she had.
“It is. If you’re worried that Adam could get hurt by your security system, you should know he’s already disabled it. He’ll move the money in the morning, after the Agency has signed off on the deal.”
“What fucking deal?”
He stopped, turning her toward him. “The one that keeps you out of prison. The one that just might give you something of a normal life.”
“I don’t get a normal life, Ian. If you take away my ability to make deals and move easily, you’re sentencing me to death. It’s not just the CIA and MI6 who want me. Have you cut a deal with my uncle?”
He didn’t seem to have an answer for that.
“No, you haven’t because he wouldn’t take a deal. Not one that doesn’t include my head in a box on his desk. So I have to come to the conclusion that you’re really protecting your own ass and giving me up.” She hated the fact that tears were running down her cheeks, but she couldn’t help it. “Is this what you wanted, Ian? Do you want to know that I’m dead because you took away everything that could have protected me? Is that going to make you feel better?”
How could she have misjudged him so badly?
He took her by the shoulders. They were still in the hallway, not far from the Brits. “I’m trying to protect you, Charlotte. I’m trying to protect my people, too. Do you want a shootout? Because every single one of my people will try to protect you. They’ll kill or die trying to keep you safe. Is that what you want? Because we can start a war.”
With MI6 and then very likely with the Agency. She hadn’t thought about anything except getting back in his arms. She hadn’t thought about what it would cost them all. “No. Just let me go with them and it can be done.”
“You’re not going anywhere except to bed.” He started down the hall again.
She tried to dig her heels in. “Ian, stop. I’m not going to be put to bed like a five-year-old.”
He simply turned and hauled her into his arms like she weighed nothing at all. “Five-year-olds have more sense than you do.”
It was more than she could take. She hauled off and hit him, slapping him right across that square jaw of his. “You can’t do this to me.”
“Watch me.” If he felt any pain, he didn’t show it.
She kicked and fought, but he just kept walking. “Let me go. Fucking let me go.”
His arms tightened around her. “Don’t you think I want to? Damn it, Charlie, I wish I could, but you’ve made th
at impossible.”
“It’s easy. Put me down and turn your back and you’ll never see me again.”
He kicked open the door to what looked to be the master bedroom. “I can’t. And I can’t seem to stop trying to save you. I know you have zero interest in my protection, but you’re fucking going to accept it this time. I made a mistake the first time. I gave you a choice. You don’t get one now.”
He set her on her feet.
She took off for the door.
An arm went around her middle, drawing her to him. “Don’t make this hard on yourself, Charlie.”
She kicked back, trying to get away. It was a stupid play. She knew it. There was absolutely nowhere to go. She would either end up with the Brits or Simon and Jesse, and they would all haul her back to Ian. But she couldn’t stay still, couldn’t submit to this.
“Calm down.” Ian bit out the command, his mouth right by her ear. “They are still listening to us. I have no doubt. So you calm down right fucking now and act like an adult.”
The accusation stung, but anything she said at this point would be meaningless.
His breath was warm against her ear, and despite the fact that he was a bastard son of a bitch, her body responded to him. Yeah, she hated that now, too.
“They think you’re The Broker. Don’t say anything. Just nod or shake your head. Chelsea’s The Broker, right?”
She thought about lying to him. Just on principle. She nodded anyway.
“Did you know she’s blackmailing key officials in four different governments?”
A little gasp came out. What had her sister done?
“I’ll take that as a no. Your little sister is doing more damage than you suspect, and you’re the one who’s going to take the fall. You won’t let her go down for it. I know you. So someone has to protect you. That’s my name on our marriage license.”
“I’ll give you a divorce. Hell, I’ll have Chelsea make it so the marriage never happened.” It’s what she should have done in the first place. She should have left well enough alone.