“There was an...incident. We followed leads about a small group of possible terrorists. In pursuing those suspects, the family of one of the men was brought in and held. Specifically, a sister. There was no evidence she was involved. Quite the opposite, in fact. From all accounts, she was trying to get away from him and their family. She was terrified. Didn’t speak much English. Our time was up, but some of the others wanted to keep her longer. Just forget to let her go.” His face scrunched up. “I couldn’t do it. So I walked her out. It was the right thing to do, and I got in trouble for it. Your team requesting me couldn’t have come at a better time, truth be told.”
Diha was back to staring at him, all that information processing through her brain. There were nuances she could see now that she wouldn’t have when they’d arrived.
Miles was a man who believed in right and wrong. He also had an understanding and compassion for people who looked different. Maybe ones that reminded him of his Nan, a woman out of place in a foreign country.
His deep voice rooted her to the spot as he kept speaking. “It just didn’t seem right, you know? Any other citizen would have known their rights. They were using her ignorance against her. I think about the way some of these pricks treat people and wonder if they knew about my Nan, would they treat me differently?”
She swallowed.
This was a much heavier conversation than she’d been prepared for.
“Sorry.” His chin came up and he gave her a sheepish smile. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s fine.” She scooted closer to the desk. He was clearly uncomfortable, shifting his weight from foot to food, not looking at her. She should drop it, and yet she wanted to know more. “What happened to the girl?”
“I got her a ride home. Hopefully I never see her again.”
Why did he have to be so darn good? The idea of dealing with him was easier when he was simply a grumpy, very attractive man.
“So normally you do field work and not this?” She gestured at her laptop, giving him a segue to safer conversation.
“Yes.”
She arranged the folds of her kurta carefully so she didn’t roll over the hem. “I couldn’t imagine being in the field. That would be too much for me.”
Miles titled his head. “I think you’d do fine.”
She chuckled, but the sound died off.
He wasn’t joking.
She swallowed and shifted in her seat.
He straightened and unbuttoned his jacket. “I find that men in our field have a linear approach to situations. Women more often come at things from a different angle. Like how you found our link to the woman in the video.”
“Oh.” Her insides were all knotted up, but not in a bad way. A warmth spread through her.
Miles was an intense man. He didn’t joke around like Harper and the others. He took the job and everything else seriously. His compliments had weight to them because she knew they were genuine. She had to remind herself that it was a professional appreciation and not anything else. It was hard to keep that in mind, though.
WEDNESDAY. CRASH PAD. Brighton, United Kingdom.
Valentino pealed back a corner of a newspaper and gazed out at the dreary morning.
She couldn’t see the men out there, but she knew where they were. The cameras still had them.
“Everything’s done,” Viggo announced.
“Good.” She let go and turned toward him. “Now, we wait.”
It had taken most of the night to gather what she needed to execute the plan, but things were in motion now. All she had to do was sit back and enjoy the show.
“I still think we should get out of here after it’s done,” Viggo said.
Valentino glanced over her brother.
She didn’t keep him around to think. That wasn’t his role in all of this. Thinking had never and would never be Viggo’s strength, but she didn’t say that. She was no longer cruel.
Instead, she ignored him and went to her computer.
These days anyone with enough drive could frame someone. Between photo and video editing software, she could make anyone say or do whatever she wanted. Oh, the truth would come out in time, but she’d be long gone and her trail cold before that happened.
“Valentino?” Viggo laid his heavy hand on her shoulder.
“What?” she snapped.
“I really think we need to get out of here. If these people found us, what else do they know?”
“Nothing,” she scoffed.
They couldn’t possibly know anything.
The whole world thought that Valentino was a stocky man, maybe American or western European. That was it. No one knew she was truly the hacker.
“Okay, what about the assassin?” He sidestepped, so he loomed over her and he couldn’t ignore him.
“I don’t know what to do about him, yet,” she admitted. “But running is the wrong decision. Mistakes happen when we run.”
“And staying isn’t a mistake?”
It had never been a mistake before. Was it possible they needed to change their process? Could Viggo be right?
“We can’t move until they are taken care of.” She gestured at the CCTV feeds, clinging to the excuse with both hands.
Routine had kept them alive. It couldn’t fail them now.
WEDNESDAY. THAMES HOUSE Security Service Headquarters. London, United Kingdom.
Miles scrolled through his email. He didn’t have anything new, and there wasn’t anything in particular he could do. But scrolling gave him an activity.
Why had he opened his mouth? Why had he said any of that earlier? What was it about Diha that made him completely forget decorum and ramble on about everything he shouldn’t?
It was clear he’d made her uncomfortable, but he didn’t know how to fix it or if he should try. What was done was done. In the future, he would be more careful about what he said to her. Just because he was attracted to her didn’t mean anything to her. In fact, except for a few moments here and there, he was fairly certain she would have preferred to avoid his company.
Too bad he had his orders.
Bennett was pleased with their progress. He was certain the only reason that was because of Diha’s progress. It couldn’t be because of anything Miles had done or found out.
“Did you ever get access to the feeds from the truck?” Diha asked.
He glanced up. It had been a while since either of them spoke, and he’d grown accustomed to the silence. Hearing her voice like that, all the melodious notes, momentarily scrambled his thoughts. “No, but I have gotten regular reports from my people.”
“Do you want it? Nothing has happened, so I’m not sure it’s of interest. I just realized you hadn’t been copied on that email.” She lifted her mug and sipped. She wore an earpiece now with a small microphone.
“Sure.”
Hell, watching people in the field might be more interesting. Or it could just be a cruel kind of self-torture.
A moment later his inbox dinged and there was a message from her. He clicked it, skimmed the text, then clicked a link. A window popped up from within the network showing him the main display of the lead analyst keeping an eye on things.
“Oh, I know what that sound means,” an American man’s voice said through the speakers.
In the frame showing two men, the shorter one turned toward the camera and waved. “We have another viewer. Welcome to watching paint dry. Bond Girl, is that Cat?”
Diha lifted her hand and clicked a button on the cord hanging from her earpiece. “No, it’s not Cat.”
Bond Girl?
“Is it that fancy pants guy?” The man leaned toward the camera until his face took up the whole frame. “You be nice to her.”
Be nice to her? Miles scowled at the screen. When had he not been nice to Diha?
The other man reached over and grabbed him by the jacket, pulling him away from the camera. “Harper. Stop playing around and do your job.”
Diha had one hand o
ver her face, head bent.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear. “Harper is...Harper.”
“Did I do something to offend?” he asked though his mind went to just half an hour ago when he hadn’t been able to stop talking.
“No.” Diha’s head snapped up. “No, not at all. Harper’s just... I call him the brother I never wanted.”
So not a love interest then. Just an over-protective friend.
Miles’ opinion of the man didn’t quite alter, but he was willing to ignore the man’s antics.
“I see,” Miles said slowly. “Bond Girl?”
Diha’s eyes widened and her mouth hung open. Was it his imagination or did her face flush?
“It is a stupid nickname Harper started calling me in the very beginning.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “It’s ridiculous and I’m afraid I’m stuck with it. It’s silly.”
“No, it’s not. You are a beautiful, capable woman.” He wanted to take the words back immediately. What was with his mouth? Every time she was around him, he said things he shouldn’t.
For a moment Diha was a statue staring at him. Her eyes seemed larger, more pronounced today. He wasn’t sure why that was, he just felt as though he were falling into their dark depths.
“Thank you,” she finally said.
“It’s just the truth.” He turned his attention back to his screen.
He needed to get laid.
That had to be it.
For the last few months, he’d been hard at work following leads on the potential terrorists. He’d pushed aside his personal life, losing himself in the work and what he felt had to be done. Along the way, he’d neglected himself. He hadn’t visited his family or his brothers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone out for a drink with friends, not that he had many anymore. What with always working most had grown apart, which was his fault.
Maybe what he needed was a night out with someone who didn’t know the real him.
The idea made him feel cold inside.
He already spent time with people who didn’t know him.
Getting laid wasn’t the solution. The truth was, he was restless. It had been coming on for a while.
In his twenties, his job had consumed him. Now, he didn’t have anything else and it wasn’t as satisfying as it once had been.
What he really wanted, what he wasn’t yet ready to think about, was that he wanted something else in his life. Or more accurately, someone else. And he didn’t know what to do about that.
Miles kept himself from looking at Diha. It was far too easy to let his mind wander when he looked at her. To wonder if his life might have been different if he’d met a woman like her earlier, before he’d gone and married his work.
A woman like her didn’t deserve someone like him.
He should be glad when this operation was over and she went home. As frustrating as it was to not be in control of his life at the moment, being around her only magnified that. She had the job she’d always wanted, like him, and yet the little she’d said about her family and the rest of her life made it clear that her life was full. She wasn’t damaged goods like he was.
He turned the volume down and leaned back in his chair. It took effort, but he wrestled his thoughts back to the job.
There were cameras covering the team and the building they were watching. Someone had rigged a camera up in the hall outside the condo which had gotten them glimpses of a man going in and out of the place, but never his face.
Could that man really be Valentino? Were they this close to the bastard?
Diha really was amazing.
She’d made this happen. She’d gotten them this close.
It would take more work to connect this person to Valentino and be able to arrest them on more than just suspicion, but they’d still be chasing shadows if it weren’t for her. Which was why the surveillance work was so important.
So why were they entrusting that work to a team of Americans?
As far as he could tell, the men weren’t actually affiliated with any agency.
“Diha?”
“Yes?”
He let himself look at her. Take her in. It was a greedy allowance. “Why is it a joint US task force needs to hire a team of toughs to do the heavy lifting?”
She stilled, looking at him with a blank expression that said both nothing and everything.
Her mouth opened, then closed again.
She did that a lot.
He was willing to bet that half the time she had something to say, but couldn’t.
Like now.
Whatever reason they had for employing a team outside the restrictions of their respective agencies was something she wouldn’t share with him. It galled for some reason.
“Um, well, I don’t entirely know,” she said slowly. “Zora wanted them and she got them.”
He figured that was a partial truth. Or at least her truth.
Once more he had to wonder what the Americans were really after. He doubted it was to help them capture Valentino because of the derailment. They had their own goals in mind. He would do well to remember that.
A bit of movement in the corner feed made Miles sit up.
Those were men in black tactical gear with guns. Had some action been determined without him?
“Diha?”
But she was already speaking. “Logan, there’s someone...”
Her voice trailed off as Harper was dragged out of their van along with the other man. There was too much noise and yelling for him to make out what was being said, but he didn’t have to hear.
The team had just been arrested.
“What is going on?” Diha demanded.
Miles was already jabbing in the number for the analyst watching this.
The cameras went dark.
“Boss,” the analyst said, his tone frantic.
“What the hell just happened?” Miles demanded.
“I don’t know. We’re calling Brighton police now.”
“Zora?” Diha’s voice wavered. “God, Zora, call me back. Something’s happened.”
Miles concentrated on his man. “Focus on getting those cameras back up. Let me know what they find out.”
He hung up.
“What just happened?” Diha asked, looking at him.
“I don’t know. We informed local police. They knew we were there.” He wasn’t going to wait for someone else to phone him back. Miles had his own contacts.
“What do we do?” she asked, though her hands were already flying on the keyboard.
“Stay calm,” he said and pressed the phone to his ear.
The line rang several times. It was a longshot the Brighton detective would speak with him or remember him, but it was a shot.
“Davies.” a gravelly voice answered.
“Inspector. It’s Miles Green from Security Services. We worked—”
“I remember you,” the old man said.
“Would you know anything about a large arrest that was just made?”
“Word travels fast,” Davies said. “Aye, a call came in an hour ago pulling in all available units. That’s all I know.”
Damn.
Miles had hoped for more.
“Thanks, Davies. I appreciate that.” They hung up and Miles glanced at Diha. “Anything?”
Her eyes were pools of darkness. “This isn’t good, Miles. This is very not good.”
“What?” He rose and circled around to stand behind her as she pounded the keyboard.
“Look at this.” She brought up a window and turned to look up at him. “What is this?”
He bent and scanned the first few lines of the report.
The first face attached to the report was her friend Harper.
“American terrorists?” Miles’ felt his brows climbing up his forehead. He paused and began re-reading. “Your boys hide something from you?”
“No,” she snapped. “This... This isn’t real. It can’t be. Look at that date.�
��
She jabbed her finger at the screen.
The report was dated three weeks ago.
Who were the Americans working with? What kind of men were these?
He peered at the images.
Those didn’t look right...
The pictures looked as if they were taken of the men last night. The gear was the same. He was fairly certain the van was the same one as well.
“Okay...” He said slowly.
“This report is talking about something that happened at the end of June. Miles, we were working an operation in June. They were all accounted for and in New York. They couldn’t have been here. It’s not possible.”
“Then...is this a case of mistaken identity?” He leaned forward, hands braced on the desk. While Miles the man wanted to take Diha’s word, he also had to wonder if they were all being played.
“I... I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on.” She turned toward him, hands in her lap.
“What?”
Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper. “What if... What if this was a trap? What if Valentino realized we were onto him and he did this?”
Miles frowned as her question twisted his world around and turned it upside down. If she were right...
No.
She couldn’t be.
He shook his head. “This is a police report. That would mean...”
Miles couldn’t even say it.
Diha’s voice grew louder as she spoke. “It would mean Valentino has access to your network. He could amend evidence. He could have done this.”
“No.” Miles shook his head. He refused to believe that.
Diha clenched the material of her kurta in her hands and pressed her lips into a tight line.
“Damn it, what is it?” he growled. They were on the same damn side.
Her gaze grew fierce. “I’m not telling you this. Understand?”
“We are on the same side.” He gestured at the screen. “Our op is going down the toilet. Tell me.”
“There’s a mole on our team. Our task force. That’s why we brought so few people. We could only bring who we trusted because someone is working against us. If that’s the case, there could be someone in Security Services or the police who would do the same.”
Mile’s mouth went dry.
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