Traitor Games

by Sidney Bristol

  “What do you want?” the man asked.

  “You don’t want to know how I got this?” Demetrius pressed the stop button.

  “You have it. That’s all I need to know.”

  Someone yelled from the other side of the building.

  They didn’t have long.

  “You want to know who I am and what I’m offering? It’s on this.” Demetrius held up the recorder. The hair on the back of his neck rose.

  The blond man didn’t move. He was rock solid.

  Goose bumps broke out along Demetrius’s arms. This Noah character was a cold bastard. Demetrius knelt and slid it across the ten or so feet between them.

  He straightened and took a step back, then another.

  “I can buy you a few minutes.” He jerked his head to the doors. “I’d leave now if I were you.”

  He ducked through the open door, adrenaline pumping through his veins.

  Most of the time, Demetrius was the one dealing death. It wasn’t often he met his match. Whoever this man was, Demetrius wanted to be on his side.

  …

  Sunday. Safe House, London, UK.

  Lillian stared at the brick row house. There wasn’t anything about it that was special. Maybe the purple blooms on the sill, but that was it. The curtains were closed and only a little light filtered out.

  She watched down the street where the other van had disappeared around the corner. Noah was in that vehicle, headed into more danger.

  Everything was a blur. From the surveillance to hitting the warehouse and then narrowly escaping before SICA arrived. She hadn’t yet seen Noah, put her hands on him, assured herself that he was okay. She needed to, for her own peace of mind.

  One thing at a time.

  “Where are we? What is this place?” she asked the tech next to her.

  “It’s not one of ours.” The man shrugged, his eyes never leaving his screen.

  They’d lost people today. The warehouse sting might have gone off without a hitch, but the attack on the safe house was devastating. The support staff left behind to keep working. A young mother. And this guy couldn’t even look at the world around him?

  Lillian wrapped her arms around herself. She wasn’t cut out for this. The others could lose someone and not bat an eyelash. Not her. These lives mattered. These people were why she’d signed on when Carol asked her to be their communications hub.

  “All quiet on the eastern front,” a voice said through a walkie-talkie.

  No, that phrase was wrong. The movie was All Quiet on the Western Front.

  “What does that mean?” Lillian asked.

  “It’s clear.” The tech all but sighed at her.

  The van started and they eased down the street, following the path the other van had taken. They circled the end of the street onto a narrow lane until they were looking at the backsides of the pretty row houses. A garage was open, two men standing at either side, keeping their eyes on the street. The van turned into the garage, squeezing into the leftover space while the door closed behind them. Lillian couldn’t make out anything in the thick darkness besides what was illuminated by the glow of computer and phone screens. The driver unlocked the van and the back doors opened.

  Someone flipped on a single light. Its weak glow provided some insight to their new location. Lillian searched for Noah.

  Brandon’s voice was the only one. He paced the width of the garage, his phone in hand. “Don’t go to the house. Take the baby and go somewhere. Scotland. Paris. New York. I don’t care. Do not stay in London and do not tell me where you’re headed, understand?”

  Lillian’s heart broke for him and that little baby. If she could go back, would she choose to have never gotten involved? Or would she still make the same decision? No matter what she did, people were still dying.

  Noah leaned on the door leading into the garden, his gaze on her.

  He was okay. They’d made it through another day.

  “I need everyone to stay alert.” Noah straightened. “We’re meeting Jeff’s boss and hopefully developing a new friend. Brandon, Lillian and I will go inside, alone, and handle this. Keep the engines running and be ready to go if we have to make a fast exit. Understood?”

  The people in her van muttered their assent.

  “Good. Lily?” Noah nodded at her.

  She slid past the other tech and practically threw herself at Noah. He caught her by the elbow and helped her out of the van.

  “Brandon’s barely holding it together. This will go better if he stays here,” Noah whispered.

  “I can imagine.” She felt for Brandon, but this was bigger than any of their personal losses.

  “Come on.” Noah took her hand and led her between the vehicles.

  She peered over her shoulder at Brandon, still on the phone. They owed their lives to him. His resources and people were why they hadn’t been captured. She could also see how Noah and Brandon might not be the best mix. Neither were accustomed to taking orders.

  “Wait up,” Brandon called out.

  Noah hesitated at the door. Lillian peered out through the glass insert at the small well-tended garden.

  “What do we know?” Lillian asked.

  “Nothing.” Noah kept staring through the glass. “Someone claiming to be Jeff’s boss reached out to Andy and extended an offer of safe haven to us. Andy said it checked out, so here we are.”

  “We’re going in there blind?”

  “No worse than anything else we’ve done so far.” Noah glanced back at Brandon, who’d finally joined them. “Stay close.”

  “Why are we doing this? Can’t we just go somewhere else?” Lillian didn’t like the way Noah was looking at her.

  “We need all the friends we can get.” Noah squeezed her hand and pushed the door open.

  They followed the paved walk through the garden up to the house. From this side she could see light shining through the decorative windows, but nothing moved inside.

  Was this another trap? Was this partnership necessary?

  “Stay here.” Noah let go of her hand and crept up the stairs to the back door.

  He drew his weapon and twisted the doorknob. The hinges didn’t make a sound as he swung the door open. Antiques, wallpaper and lots of polished wood were her first impression of the place.

  “Hello. Come inside,” a man’s voice said.

  “Who’s there?” Noah leaned around and peered inside.

  A small table with a laptop sat facing the door. The way the screen was tilted made it almost impossible to make out more than the shape of a person. But that voice… She knew that voice.

  “Is Lillian Matthews with you?”

  She climbed the stairs to stand next to Noah. She stared at the face of the kind-looking, older black man on the laptop screen. His hair was going white and his face was creased with smile lines. Of all the politicians she’d worked with this man had been her favorite.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. Matthews.”

  “Mr. Grant?” She gaped at the current Secretary of State, none of the pieces clicking.

  The dark-skinned man smiled. “I know this is going to come as a shock to you, but we have a lot to cover and we’re short on time. I’ve been following your progress closely. I wish the summit had a better outcome.” Mr. Grant leaned forward. He’d been a much-loved senator before President Fowler’s predecessor brought him on as the Secretary of State. For whatever reason, Fowler had retained Grant in the position.

  “Sorry about your men.” Noah entered the house and approached the table.

  “They were good people doing a good thing.” Mr. Grant’s face creased with sorrow.

  Jeff, and his boss, provided arbitration services to the criminal world. Warlords even. Bad people. How did someone so untouched by scandal or ill word like Mr. Grant fit into all of this?

  “I’m sorry—what the hell is going on here?” Lillian had worked with the Secretary of State, handling the optics, smoothing over the wrinkles in the me
dia. As jobs went, it’d been easy. She’d always thought him so disarming, kind of like a friendly uncle. He was a man, she’d thought, without secrets or skeletons. He was practically a saint.

  “The short version, Ms. Matthews, is that during my tenure on the security council, I worked closely with the CIA. In my early days we saw a need for a mediator that wasn’t connected to any government. Jeff’s older brother was a contractor, like Noah, who fit our needs. He ran the first iteration of the service until his death, at which point Jeff took control. He’s been running their service under my guidance since then. Now half the operation is gone and we’ve got a bigger problem on our plates than before.”

  “So…this is all under the purview of the government?” she asked.

  “No, Ms. Matthews, it is not.”

  Oh, God… What the hell were they into now?

  “How bad is our situation?” Noah asked.

  “It’s bad, Mr. White. Donovan is dead, as are the rest of the attendees. President Fowler is going to succumb to the pressure to point fingers at his son and your team very soon. When that happens, I’m not sure anything can bring him back around.” Grant shook his head. “We need to get your people out of the UK. This group has been one step behind you since you went on the run.”

  “One of their men made contact earlier. I think he wants to turn on them,” Noah said.

  Lillian gaped at him. “What?”

  “When?” Brandon demanded.

  “It happened at the end. Right before we left. There hasn’t been time to discuss it.” Noah glanced at her.

  “We’ll have to investigate that lead when time isn’t so short. Your team is welcome to use this house. Tomorrow I can make arrangements for getting everyone off that island. We’ll have to talk more later. I’ve got to run.” Grant tilted his head. “Stay safe, patriots.”

  The screen went dark.

  Brandon whirled on Noah. “Why didn’t you mention this contact?”

  “There wasn’t time. We loaded up the van, you were on the phone, he made contact, and then we had to go.” Noah’s tone was steel, unyielding.

  “Who was it? What did he say?” Brandon asked.

  “Just that he wants to work with us and he’d be in touch,” Noah replied.

  He was lying. Lillian’s gut screamed at her.

  Noah had more on whoever this was that he wasn’t sharing with Brandon. She didn’t blame him.

  “You should have told me sooner.” Brandon pivoted to the doors. “I’m getting the others.”

  “We staying here?” Noah asked.

  “Where else can we go?”

  Lillian and Noah watched Brandon trek back out into the garden.

  She trusted Mr. Grant even with this new revelation. Everything she knew about that man said he was one of the good ones, and without proof to say otherwise, he was their only friend.

  “Come on, before they all get in here.” Noah took her hand again and led her to the front of the house.

  “What really happened?” she whispered.

  “Just what I said, except the man gave me this.” Noah pulled out a recorder. “It’s the tape from the safe house the other night. They tracked us from there to Brandon’s place. They’re good.”

  Noah pressed play and their voices spoke out of the past, replaying the moments before they’d left the National Action house. She stared at Noah’s impassive face.

  They were doing the right thing, so why did people have to die?

  A few moments of silence went by before a new voice spoke.

  “My name is Demetrius Theron. A week ago two men jumped me and brought me to a secret meet with a man I’d never met before. He has my children. I don’t believe for a second he means to let me go, which is why I need you. I need you and whatever the fuck this is to help me save my babies. If you do this, I’ll help you.” He rattled off a phone number and the tape went quiet again.

  Lillian blinked at the recorder.

  More lives in the balance. More people who could die.

  “I’ll send this to Andy. He can tell us if this guy is legit or not.” Noah pocketed the device then slid his hands around her. “How are you?”

  “Fine. Okay.” Both were relative. Fine in that she was still breathing and alive. Okay in that for now she wasn’t breaking down. She lifted her chin. “You?”

  “I’ve had better days.”

  “Tell me about it.” She leaned her head against Noah’s shoulder, needing his support.

  “We should get some sleep while we can.”

  This was getting more and more complicated every day. How were they ever going to put an end to this?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Monday, Freighter, Somewhere in the North Sea.

  Noah stared out at the choppy waves. His stomach didn’t like being on the water, and he couldn’t handle being below deck any longer. Not that the fresh air was helping, either. At the rate they were going they’d reach Hamburg by tomorrow morning. A flight would have been quicker, but between their numbers, equipment, and the stolen terminals, they had to avoid public transportation. Police were still looking for him and Lillian, which was a whole other problem they were going to have to figure out. Leaving the UK was at least putting a pin in that for later.

  “It’s freezing out here.”

  Speak of the devil.

  He closed his eyes and it was as though he could smell the scent of soap and fresh hair dye all over again, feel her lips on his. She was quickly becoming his drug of choice.

  He watched Lillian cross the deck toward him. The rolling of the freighter didn’t seem to bother her like it did him. She sidled up next to him, her shoulder fitting against his chest. It was only natural for him to wrap his arm around her waist.

  She tipped her chin up, frowning at him. “I still can’t get over you with red hair. It looks so weird.”

  “I’m too pale to go dark like you. How are the glasses?”

  “I keep pushing them up. It’s annoying, but I’ll get used to it.” She used her index finger to prop the chunky frames back up the bridge of her nose.

  “How is it down there?” He nodded at the hatch leading down to the passenger areas.

  “Cramped and smelly.” She slid her hand into his jacket to rest on his stomach. “Brandon doesn’t have reception right now so he’s less tolerable.”

  “Soon he’s going to be a liability, not an asset.”

  “He’s grieving.”

  “You think I don’t know that?” He understood Brandon better than ever. If it was Lillian who’d died, Noah would be going to war. “We don’t have the luxury of grieving right now.”

  Lillian pressed her lips together. Her compassion was written in the creases of her face. She still cared. She wasn’t cold and hard like he was.

  “What do we do?” she asked softly.

  “We watch our back.” Noah stroked his hand down to her hip and squeezed. “We can’t trust that our goal is Brandon’s. This started out as protecting his business and now it’s personal to the point he can’t see beyond that.”

  “You think he’d sell us out?” she asked.

  “No. But I do think he’d waste an opportunity to learn more in favor of drawing blood.”

  “Okay. How do we…deal with this?”

  “We stay close to each other, keep our eyes open. Once we get to Hamburg we can make additional contingency plans with the others. We can no longer rely on Brandon, and I’m not sure what to think about…you know.” Noah was less shocked by the appearance of the Secretary of State on the laptop than the others. At this stage, he assumed every major political figure had a hand in the covert game.

  “I still can’t wrap my head around that.” Lillian shook her head.

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “What about what he said about…?”

  Fowler.

  There was a wild card Noah wished wasn’t on the table.

  The president had never truly been in their corner, despite wha
t the others thought. That man was playing all sides. The only question was, when they were forced to show their cards, where would Fowler land? Who would he pick? Which ally would he screw in order to come up on top?

  “I think we should worry about what’s on our plate right now.” Noah tucked Lillian’s hand into the crook of his arm. “Let’s walk.”

  They strolled along the deck. Most sane people were inside or downstairs, which meant this was about as private a chance as they’d get to plan.

  “Yesterday was hard. How are you doing?” He peered down at her.

  It was as though he could see through her eyes, straight to her soul. There was goodness inside of her. Pain. Fear. Longing. And she trusted him with all of it. They weren’t the same people they’d been two weeks ago. Probably never would be, but he’d be damned if he let this change her.

  Noah stopped under an overhang and pulled Lillian to him. He hadn’t wanted to be part of this. Maybe deep down he’d known that he was the one who’d end up changed. Because of this determined, brilliant woman. He didn’t want to be anywhere else. He didn’t want to be with anyone else, and as someone who preferred being alone, wanting another person’s presence was notable enough.

  “I’m okay,” she said finally, her head on his shoulder.

  He pulled her in a little closer. “You’ll tell me if this ever gets to be too much?”

  “I will.”

  “We stick together, no matter what.” He meant it. She was his partner now, and they’d live or die together.

  She looked up at him, a worry line marring her brow.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I’m just… I’m sorry for dragging you into all of this.”

  “I wouldn’t be anywhere else.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. He’d follow her to the ends of the earth if that’s what it took. The lines were blurred. This wasn’t a job anymore. It was personal.

  Lillian tipped her chin up. It was a silent request that had his insides knotting up. She wanted him.

  He bent his head and kissed her. The frames were cold on his cheek, but her touch was hot. Warmth that had nothing to do with body heat curled through him and his chest felt too small, his heart straining against his ribs.