“Can you think about it?” His words were a caress that filled her with longing. “Please?”
The words were more precious than rubies to her. The answer wasn’t one she planned to give. “Yes,” she breathed.
His slow, and oh so sexy smile, made her heart race. It was the smile of a man who never gave up on a challenge. It was the smile of a man who knew he would win. It was a smile that should have made her run. Instead, it made her lips feel dry and her fingers tingle to touch.
That’s when Julia knew she was already in out of her depth. To go any further would be to drown. And yet, in that moment, she wasn’t sure that drowning in Joe wouldn’t be a wonderful way to go.
Chapter Thirty
The call came at eight that evening.
Dimitri was at the office building, helping Ryan to fit a new security system, while a cleaning crew sorted out the mess. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket, saw it was Elle and his heart stopped dead.
“Go,” he said when he answered.
“She’s in Morocco.”
The world around Dimitri became magnified. He was painfully aware of the sound of his own breathing, of the rough surface of the wall under his hand, of the fly that buzzed around his face.
“You have an address?” His voice was sandpaper.
“Yep. We have an address. Along with the name of the guy who bought her.” There was a pause. “Callum has a contact locally. We have him seeking confirmation that she’s still in the house.”
And hasn’t been sold on. He heard the words Elle didn’t say and his hand tightened on his phone.
Ryan stepped back into the room, took one look at Dimitri and his face closed up. He put the gear he was carrying on the table beside him, folded his arms and waited for instruction.
“How long until we head over there?” Dimitri kept his eyes on Ryan.
“Couple of hours. Callum wants you back here to go over strategy.”
“I’m on my way.” He flicked the phone off and stared at it.
For long minutes Ryan said nothing, then he took a step towards Dimitri. “What do you need?”
The question was simple, but in it Dimitri knew Ryan was offering his complete support for whatever Dimitri decided to do.
“We need to head back to the hotel.” He didn’t need to explain further. It was clear what this was about.
Ryan nodded once. “Let me tell the gramps.” He jogged off to inform the old men that they were in charge.
Dimitri was sitting behind the driver’s wheel of the SUV when Ryan climbed in. His usual easy-going façade was gone—in its place was a trained soldier ready for duty. In that moment, Dimitri could clearly see why Lake Benson had hired the guy.
“We need more guys. I feel like an amateur leaving my grandad to watch the office.” There was disgust in Ryan’s voice.
“There’s a cop there too.” Tessa had stationed one of her constables in the building in case of a return visit from Durand.
“Not the point.”
No, it wasn’t. “Lake and Callum are on it.” The office wasn’t even supposed to be up and running yet. The mission to find Katrina and eliminate the threat of Rudi Abramovich was a private one. An in-house undertaking that had nothing to do with business and everything to do with family.
“I hope they speed up. We’re seriously undermanned. If this is what it’s like when we aren’t even open for business, what will it be like a month from now?” Ryan angled himself to look at Dimitri. “You’ll be here a month from now, right? You’re staying on after we find Katrina, aren’t you?”
“Yeah.” If there was one thing Dimitri was certain of, it was that he’d found a professional home with Benson Security—and a personal one with Megan. Although, he suspected telling Megan he’d decided they were long-term would be a whole lot harder than telling Callum.
“Good,” was all Ryan said.
The streets of London zoomed past them in a kaleidoscope of neon lights. They drove through Westminster past the many generic office blocks that housed the worker bees of the British government. The office streets were quiet, but that changed as soon as they hit Westminster Abbey. The streets around the Abbey, Parliament Building and Big Ben were crowded with tourists. Dimitri’s eyes skirted the black depths of the Thames to focus on the clock tower that watched over the city. Each minute that ticked on the ornate dial was one more minute his sister was trapped.
They swung a left along the river, watching the large wheel of the London Eye move slowly through the night. So many people, going about their business, getting home from work, or off to dinner. Visiting with friends or sightseeing. None of them aware of the evil lurking at the edges of their lives. It all seemed so ordinary, so pedestrian, when all Dimitri could think of was his sister. All he could see when he looked out at the picture postcard views was Katrina’s face. All he could hear was her cry for help. For his help.
“We’re nearly there.” Ryan’s voice cut through his thoughts and Dimitri realised he had a death grip on the steering wheel. They’d driven under Jubilee Bridge and were coming up on the Savoy, but he didn’t think that was what Ryan meant. Ryan confirmed it when he said, “She’ll be home soon.”
Yeah, she’d be home soon. Dimitri wouldn’t allow for anything else. He pulled into the hotel, yet another building with a clock atop it that mocked him with how long he’d taken to find his sister. He threw his car keys at the valet and entered the hotel. The glitz and glamour of the building, with its Art Deco details and marble columns, hit him as painfully out of place. He wasn’t there to enjoy his time in London. He was there to plan a rescue mission for his sister. Somehow, knowing that made the chandeliers feel like an insult.
They rode the elevator in silence and when they entered the suite, they were greeted by the rest of the team, plus two welcome additions.
“Lake.” Dimitri shook the ex-SAS specialist’s hand. “Thanks for coming.”
“No need for thanks. You’re a member of the team.”
Dimitri had been a member of a team all of his adult life. This was different. This was more. It was family. He nodded his thanks before turning to the giant American flanking Lake.
“Grunt.” He held out his hand and it was instantly swallowed by the man mountain’s.
With this one act, coming down from Scotland to help him find his sister, the men had earned his loyalty. Any thought of leaving Lake Benson’s team after he’d retrieved his sister was gone. He was now a Benson Security guy for life.
“Claire?” he asked the giant.
“She’s covered.” Grunt folded his meaty arms, obviously having decided that was all he had to say on the matter.
“With the threat of Abramovich removed, it was safe to leave her with a couple of my guys,” Lake added. “Anyway, seemed like you lot needed a hand down here.”
Dimitri nodded as he felt Megan sidle up to him. He normally would have laughed at her effort to appear unconcerned and casual—instead he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her tight against him.
“Freaking caveman,” she muttered as she thumped a fist on his chest. But there was no force behind it and she didn’t try to pull away.
Grunt looked between Dimitri and Megan, his brow furrowed in thought. When he’d come to a conclusion, he looked Dimitri straight in the eye.
“Hurt her, you pay.”
There was no need to say anything else—the Hulk would be able to take him with one well-placed punch.
“Grunt!” Megan tried to step away from him, presumably to give her brother-in-law grief. Dimitri didn’t let her go. He needed the comfort of having her in his arms. Just for a moment. This moment. It didn’t deter Megan. She shouted at Grunt anyway. “You can’t go all King Kong on me. I’m not your wife. Butt out of my life, ape face, or you’ll regret it.”
Grunt stared at Megan, his face unreadable, then he looked back at Dimitri. There was no need for words, it was clear the threat still stood.
“Oh,
that’s it.” Megan struggled to get free. “I’ve had enough of bossy men. I’m going to teach you a lesson, Grunt Dayton.”
The woman obviously had a death wish.
“See what I mean?” Joe said to Dimitri. “No fear.” He shook his head in wonder as he stared at Megan.
Lake’s lips twitched in his approximation of a smile. “We ready to get this show on the road?”
“Definitely.” Dimitri felt Megan still beside him.
She looked up at him, fire in her blue eyes. “I’ve got your back.”
He kissed her forehead. Crazy woman.
His crazy woman.
Once everyone was settled into their seats in the living room, all eyes turned to Elle. She stood beside her computer monitors, dressed in blue jeans and a Star Trek original series T-shirt. Dimitri was geek enough to recognise the shirt as the yellow Captain Kirk wore. Her hair was in two bunches, each tied with bands that had plastic strawberries attached to them. The red made her blue hair seem even more luminous.
“Who’s the Smurf?” Grunt surprised everyone when he volunteered to talk instead of someone having to pry words from him.
“The Smurf,” Elle said, “is the woman who’s going to wipe out your credit rating for the next ten years if you don’t learn some manners.”
Grunt chuckled and took up a spot beside the window. He stood feet apart, arms folded and tense, as though ready to spring into action. Joe shook his head in amusement then grabbed a chair beside his best friend and fellow ex-Marine.
A screen had been rigged up above the fireplace, a data projector pointing at it. The Savoy really could provide anything you needed. Elle tapped on her iPad and an aerial image of a house appeared. Not a house, Dimitri corrected himself, an estate.
“This is the Moroccan home of Henri Boudin. It’s where Katrina is being held.”
After almost a year, he had the name of the man who held his sister. Pure, ice-cold fury surged through his veins at the thought. Dimitri felt something on his chest and ripped his eyes away from the image to find Megan petting him as they sat side by side on the sofa. It was an attempt to soothe him. Wrapping an arm around her shoulders, he pressed a kiss to her temple to let her know he was okay. He was holding it together. He couldn’t lose it now. Not when he was this close.
“We’re sure she’s there?” For once Rachel’s tone wasn’t mocking.
Elle nodded. “Callum’s contact in the area confirmed she was in the house as of seven o’clock this morning.”
“Is that seven our time, or seven Moroccan time?” Megan asked.
“We’re on the same time zone as Morocco,” Callum answered. “Seven there, is seven here.”
“So, she was there almost fourteen hours ago,” Megan said. “For certain?”
“For certain.” There was no doubt in Callum’s tone or demeanour.
Dimitri realised his fingertips were digging into Megan’s shoulder and relaxed his grip. She patted his chest again to tell him she understood.
“What do we know about this Henri Boudin?” Lake said.
Elle tapped her iPad and data appeared on the screen. “Basically, he’s rich, he’s ruthless and he’s connected. His family have been involved in French politics for over a century. His parents squandered the family money living the high life. Henri here built his own empire from scratch. Although, he didn’t exactly start poor, just not as uber-rich as he is now. He runs several successful corporations. He has a toe in everything from new tech to real estate, but his main business is import/export. He isn’t afraid to play nasty and there’s plenty of evidence to suggest that not everything he’s dealing in is legal. If I had more time I could give you details.”
“Makes sense. You don’t run in the same circles as Rudi Abramovich if your business is above board.” Joe looked at Grunt who grunted in agreement.
“Security?” Lake said.
The image flicked back to the house. The house that held his sister. A short three hour flight from London.
“We have surveillance information from various cameras, databases near the estate. We also have the information Callum’s contact sent us.” Elle pursed her lips. “I’m in the process of hacking his home network. That will give us more detailed information on security rotations. It shouldn’t take long.” The woman had serious skills hidden under her Manga persona.
“Then we plan.” Callum glanced at Lake before looking to Dimitri for agreement.
“I don’t want to wait for Elle to hack the house before we move.” Dimitri wanted his sister out now.
“I’ll have the information within the hour.” Elle sounded more than confident. “It isn’t exactly the Pentagon.”
“More informed we are, less likely we screw up,” Callum said.
Reluctantly Dimitri inclined his head in agreement. “Then we plan.”
“Was the armoury at the office hit?” Lake’s light blue eyes were full of cold calculation.
“It wasn’t touched.” Ryan wasn’t eating for once. “No sign of tampering with the access panel. It’s secure, and still loaded with toys.”
“I have a jet on standby at City airport,” Rachel said. “It’s ready to go when you are.”
Megan perked up. “You have your own plane?”
“No. I don’t need my own plane. I borrow my father’s when the occasion arises.”
“Why don’t you have your own plane? You can afford it.” Megan was undeterred. “You could call up a plane dealer and order a Cessna in pink.”
People started to chuckle as Rachel stared at Megan. “It really doesn’t take much to amuse you, does it?”
“Nope.” Megan grinned at the woman.
“Okay.” Callum stood. “Dimitri, this is your op. We’re here for you. But Lake has a lot of experience in extractions like this. I’d take his advice. Ryan, Joe, you two head to the office and pick up the gear we’ll need. Grunt, Lake, Dimitri and myself will get started on the planning. Any questions?”
“Yeah, what about me?” Megan said. “Don’t I get to come too?”
“No!” Every man in the room shouted at the same time.
Megan sat back down in a huff. She folded her arms and glared at Dimitri. “The only reason you aren’t getting an argument right now is because I know how important this is.”
“And because you don’t work for me any more,” Callum pointed out.
“Oh,” Megan pouted. “I forgot about that.”
Dimitri leaned over, clasped the back of Megan’s neck and kissed her hard. “I appreciate you want to come, Buffy, but I need you safe too. I can only handle worrying about one woman I care about at a time.”
Megan seemed a little stunned as Dimitri turned back to Callum. “What about protection for Megan while we’re gone?”
“Ryan and I will stay here. Durand is still a problem. We don’t want to take risks.”
“I’d like to point out, again,” Megan said loudly, “that I don’t need a keeper. I can actually look after myself. I have self-defence skills and I’m good at thinking on my feet.”
“Nobody questions that, Buff.” Dimitri tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s what you think that scares the life out of us.”
“Idiot,” she grumbled, but stayed in place.
Chapter Thirty-One
They arrived in the outskirts of Morocco’s capital, Rabat, just after two in the morning. They drove through the city from the airport, watching the mix of French colonial and Islamic architecture slide past. Modern white apartment blocks were dwarfed by the red stone walls of the Roman-built Kasbah fort, small blue mosaicked houses peeked out amongst modern office buildings and green oasis gardens were interspersed throughout the city landscape. The large tiled domes of the mosques were lit up in warm colours that glowed against the black night. Palm trees lined their route along the coast, with the blank void of the Atlantic their constant companion.
They were a four man team: Lake Benson, Grunt, Joe and Dimitri. One ex-SAS specialist, two ex-Marines
and one ex-Ranger. They were kitted out in black tactical vests over black T-shirts and cargo pants. They all wore kneepads, boots and fingerless gloves. Each of them carried an M4, with a Berretta and knife strapped to their thighs.
Warmth spread through him as he remembered Megan’s goodbye before he’d left. Other women would have kissed him and told him to be careful. Megan had taken one look at his tactical vest and demanded he buy her one for Christmas. Crazy woman.
“We ready?” Lake was driving, as he knew the capital city of Morocco well. Dimitri didn’t ask how he’d gained his familiarity with the city. They all had their secrets.
“Yeah.” Dimitri was more than ready. He was desperate to get to his sister. A desperation he was trying to keep a lid on, because impatience would cause mistakes. Ones he couldn’t afford to make.
Grunt grunted and Joe nodded as he checked his gear one more time. It felt like a ritual. Like they’d been a team for a very long time. And even though Dimitri was the only member of their team who had never set foot in Morocco before then, he still felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity about everything they saw and did.
“Lake’s on point,” Dimitri said, although they knew this. “I’m second. Comms check.”
They each activated their comm units which ran up from their vests to sit flush against their throats.
Without being prompted, Lake cut the lights on their SUV as they swung into the suburb where Henri Boudin’s estate was located. They’d gone over the security information in detail. They knew exactly what to expect. They were ready.
Once they parked the car along the road from the house, they headed for the side wall. What felt like a minute later, they had disabled the cameras and were over the wall. Crouching low, M4s in hand, they approached the house in tight formation, scanning for the enemy, moving in silence towards the rear of the property.
Lights were on in the three-storeyed mansion. The vast windows left nothing to the imagination. From this angle the house had amazing views of the ocean, but was completely open to observation. And there was something wrong. There were no people. The estate was silent in a way that only ever occurred when a place was empty.
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