Technical Risk

by Sidney Bristol

  At least this job might allow him a little revenge.

  He spied his bag on the carousel and stepped forward.

  The man from earlier sidled out of Ramon’s way.

  He scooped up his bag, turned and strode into the throngs of people navigating the London tube.

  Those Aegis Group bastards weren’t his objective, but Skilton had been very clear. If he got the chance to eliminate them, take the shot.

  But first he had to take care of some upstart hacker.

  Should be easy enough.

  Nerdy types never did protect themselves well enough.

  Ramon would be done by tomorrow, and then he could exact his revenge. It was a small drop in the bucket, but it was something.

  FRIDAY. NORRIS AND Knight. London, United Kingdom.

  Valentino watched the people coming and going in the quaint little café. She’d chosen an out of the way spot in an area of the city where anyone following her might stand out. Of course, the trade-off was that she herself stood out.

  She had to come up with money. Fast.

  Viggo’s wounds were worse. He’d needed surgery and a lot of blood. He was stable now and would supposedly make a full recovery, but the bill would be high.

  She’d tried rounding up some of her cash, but most was still stuck. It took time to funnel that much money through dozens of accounts so that it was safe enough to be used.

  “Here you are.” The waitress breezed over and set a frothy latte down along with a chocolate croissant.

  Valentino smiled at the woman. It was a practiced expression. Viggo had told her that people remembered you less if you were pleasant, and so she’d done her best to leave as little impression on people as possible.

  With her caffeine at the ready, she opened her laptop. She’d sent out a few feelers before crashing at a hostel. Something had to pan out.

  She spent a few moments getting connected and routing her signal through a few unprotected devices nearby before really getting down to work.

  There was always work to be had. That was the simple truth of anyone with a reputation of a certain caliber. But so much vetting had to be done before she could work with new people. It was why maintaining her relationship with Skilton had been so appealing. Lots of money, consistent workload, reliable client.

  What she needed was a job vetted through someone else. A referral. Something they wanted to do, but needed back-up or more creative solutions. Though quick was also a key in this.

  She checked all of her emails, a process that took an hour.

  As expected, there were inquiries and some cold offers, but she stayed away from those. At least half would be some government trying to trap her. She’d learned that lesson ages ago. She scanned them anyway.

  One of the older messages caught her eye. Whoever the sender was, she’d clearly worked for them before. There were too many details someone would only know if they’d met Viggo under the belief that he was Valentino.

  She earmarked the email to look into.

  A chat message popped up with two words, Hey, Eros.

  She squinted at the sender, trying to place them as the message rolled in. A plea to help with a job far too big for them. It was the kind of thing she’d normally pass up on. But today she was desperate. Whoever paid her first would get her. It was as simple as that.

  Her phone buzzed.

  A cold sweat broke out as she saw it was the number for the eastern medicine shop she’d gone to.

  No doubt they wanted to know when they were getting paid.

  She didn’t have an answer. Not yet.

  FRIDAY. PLACE. CITY, United Kingdom.

  Diha neatly folded yesterday’s clothes and placed them in the laundry bag she’d kept in her suitcase. When she’d made sure to bring it, it had been because she’d gone home one too many times smelling of Harper. All she had to do was stand in the same room with the man and the scent transferred to her. Her goal had been to separate her worn clothes, so the smell didn’t get on her clean ones. She at least wanted to start the day by smelling like herself.

  Which was also why she’d brought her fancy hand lotion with her. It had a strong scent all its own that she liked.

  And now she didn’t smell like herself or Harper.

  Her things smelled like Miles.

  Just that fact made her insides do weird, warm things.

  She swallowed and her anxiety reared its head.

  Harper and the others were relying on her to keep pushing forward while they sat in prison.

  Could her middle of the night plan actually make headway? Or were they running into a dead end?

  “Hey.” Miles leaned against the dresser while he buttoned his shirt, the cuffs dangling off his forearms.

  “Hm?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She blew out a breath and looked up at him. While she was still anxious about this thing they shared, it didn’t give her anxiety like the state of the team did.

  “I was just thinking about the guys and that I don’t want to let them down. Are we doing the right thing? Or is there another lead I need to be chasing?”

  “Hey now.” He stopped buttoning his shirt, reached over and took her hand. “Who found the link with the woman?”

  “That was dumb luck.”

  “Who found it?”

  She gave him a flat stare. “I did.”

  “And who figured out where she was when we couldn’t even identify her?” He tilted his head.

  He really did expect her to answer this.

  “Me,” she said.

  “Alright, and who—”

  “Just because I happened to do it then doesn’t mean this will work out.” She zipped the bag, thrust it into the suitcase and flipped it shut.

  “I think your track record so far is pretty damn good. You’re our best bet.”

  She sucked in air. “That’s a lot of pressure.”

  “You’ve got this.”

  “Thanks.” She reached for his cuffs and he held out his arm, allowing her to fasten the buttons. She’d reached for his as something to do, but the act felt oddly intimate. She kept her eyes on the pearlescent discs and smoothed the fabric around his wrist. “What’s the plan? Are we heading back to London?”

  “Seeing as we went back to London just to come here again, I think we should stay put until we need to be somewhere.”

  She arched a brow at him. “Then why are you getting dressed?”

  Diha was still wearing her pajamas.

  He glanced down at himself. “Force of habit.”

  She let go of his sleeve and planted her hands on her hips. “So, what do we do now?”

  “Have you considered going back to bed?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, well, I was thinking we take a trip to see what Davies knows about our crime scene and the vic. Maybe they got a lead? We still have an injured person out there. Maybe he went to hospital?”

  She squinted at him.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She shook her head, dismissing the thought.

  He braced a hand on the dresser and gave her that stern look that a few days ago would have flustered her. “What?”

  She sighed. “Why do you say, going to hospital? Why not, going to the hospital?”

  “The vic is going to hospital for a gunshot wound.”

  “Yeah, I still don’t get the distinction.”

  Miles stared at her for a moment as if considering the question. “The vic would go to hospital for the purpose of what the hospital is. To be treated for his wound. You go to school to be educated. You go to church to participate in the service.”

  “Okay, that last one makes the most sense. So you’re saying go to hospital or school or church because you’re doing the thing that place was designed for. It serves a specific purpose.”

  “Yes.” He chuckled. “We speak the same language and yet we don’t.”

  “We sound nothing alike.” She gestured at him, then herself.


  His gaze warmed. “Oh, I don’t know.”

  She swallowed, her mind going to last night and some of the sounds that were very similar.

  Miles’ phone rang. He groaned and pulled it out, looking at the display. His brows rose and he flashed the screen at her.

  She didn’t recognize the name, but it had to be significant.

  “Green.” Miles paced away from her.

  She could feel the energy in the room change. Excitement and anticipation were palpable.

  Diha grabbed her stack of clothes for the day and laid the pieces out on the bed while Miles made a few sounds, but otherwise listened to what his contact was saying.

  She made the last minute decision to re-wear yesterday’s jeans instead of the slacks she’d brought to go with another of her white dress-shirt style kurta with the thin black vertical and horizontal lines. If they were going to be on the move, she couldn’t exactly wear the heels necessary to keep the slacks from dragging.

  “Thanks, we’ll take it from here,” Miles said as he turned to face her.

  Her skin prickled and she knew he was watching her. It wasn’t like there was an inch of her he hadn’t seen, kissed or touched at this point. Still, she felt a rush of nerves as she threw on her clothes.

  “Our informant just passed on instructions for sending the down payment to have Eros consider our job offer.” Miles’ shoulders drooped. “My people aren’t going to pay for this.”

  “I’ll call Zora.” Diha wasn’t certain, but if they stood to get a nibble, it might be worth it. “How much is this down payment?”

  “Five grand. Euros. Wired. Nothing face to face.”

  That wasn’t a small sum of money to her, but maybe Zora would see it differently.

  Diha pulled the dress shirt Kurta on over her head then began doing up the buttons.

  Miles pushed her hands out of the way and began doing them up himself. He ran the back of his fingers up the fabric from button to button as he fastened them. It wasn’t quite a caress, and yet she felt the zips of electricity all throughout her body.

  When he was done, she’d completely forgotten what she was supposed to be doing.

  He bent his head and kissed her. “Until I can get you out of this, later.”

  “Until then, what?”

  He just smiled at her. “Going to call Zora?”

  “What? Oh. Yes.” She whirled and snatched up her phone.

  Maybe Zora would say no.

  Maybe all of this would be for nothing, but she had to try. For their team and everything they were trying to do.

  FRIDAY. UNITED KINGDOM.

  Ramon scrolled through the information Skilton had just sent him.

  Why the hell was Ramon just now seeing all of this? Wasn’t this the kind of thing he should know about before landing in London?

  Whatever.

  He kept reading, though at this point he was skimming. There was just too much to really take in. And he didn’t actually care about some train derailment. That was ancient history as far as he was concerned. What mattered were the current details.

  The Aegis Group team had been arrested.

  The remaining people hunting his target were a small force, but they’d managed to do what no one thought possible. They’d found Valentino, and not simply found the man, they’d pushed him so far he’d attacked them.

  A hacker attacking people with a gun?

  Maybe Ramon didn’t know anything, but that sounded wrong.

  A sniper killed from afar.

  Guys like him got up close and personal before anyone knew they were there.

  And hackers worked through computers.

  They didn’t go to their targets and try to shoot them.

  So what was this guy’s deal?

  Skilton had promised regular updates, but for now this was everything.

  Ramon considered his options as he gulped the rest of his coffee.

  This hacker had taken out a trained assassin.

  Ramon was good, but he knew years of being a SEAL and following orders didn’t make him a shadowy killing machine. His skill set was similar, yet different enough he knew he was at a disadvantage.

  The hacker had also tried to go after the people hunting him.

  It didn’t sound right.

  People were predictable. They stayed in their lanes.

  Snipers sniped.

  Assassins killed in secret.

  Hackers used computers.

  It was basic.

  What if this man wasn’t really Valentino? What if he was someone else? Someone people only thought was Valentino?

  It sounded like the kind of thing a coward key clacker would do. Make someone else take the heat.

  Ramon finished the coffee.

  No, he was probably wrong. Thinking, working this shit out, that wasn’t his strength. He was a solider. He followed orders. That was what he did well.

  If these other task force members had found Valentino once, they’d find him again. And when they did, Ramon would be there to end the target and the task force. Because that was what he did well.

  15.

  Friday. Medical Examiner. Brighton, United Kingdom.

  Miles stared down at the body. The medical examiner had tried to make the face more presentable, but there wasn’t much that could be done when he was missing at least a quarter of his skull.

  “Anything on dental yet?” he asked.

  The woman who’d accompanied Miles back shook her head. “No. That’s going to be a long shot. We have no idea who he is or where he’s from.”

  “No hits on the fingerprints?”

  “I wouldn’t know. You’d have to talk to Davies.”

  Miles nodded.

  The older man hadn’t mentioned a hit, so there must not have been anything thus far.

  “Well, if anything does come up, please give me a call?” Miles handed his business card to the woman. “I’m done here.”

  “Is this your cell phone or an office number?” the woman asked.

  It was the first thing she’d said that wasn’t perfectly professional.

  He paused, but didn’t look at her while he mentally reviewed the last few moments. He hadn’t given her cause to think he was interested, had he?

  She wasn’t Diha. What she looked like or what she offered wasn’t important.

  “That’s my work cell,” he answered honestly. Or at least mostly honest. “I use it for work, only.”

  “Oh. Well, too bad,” she said, taking his cool tone in stride.

  “Good evening, ma’am.”

  Miles strode out of the examination room and down the hall out of the morgue. He’d left Diha in an empty office while he made this trip. She hadn’t been too keen on seeing the body, and it wasn’t necessary.

  Miles wasn’t a fan of the busy work they were doing. Anything to keep busy and occupied.

  Zora had initially said no to the payment, but half an hour later she’d called back and Miles had put her in contact with the informant’s handler. The payment had been made and now they were waiting, hoping something would come out of this.

  The halls were mostly empty this late on a Friday. He couldn’t blame people for wanting to get out and enjoy their weekend after a long week. He was looking forward to just that after this case wrapped.

  Miles turned into the office and paused in the doorway. Diha was bent over her laptop, frowning at something in a way he’d come to identify as her very serious work face. She tapped out a few things, then glanced up at him.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  “No. Dental is going to take time. No prints yet, though I need to verify that with Davies.” He grimaced. “I think it’s the busy work I hate the most.”

  “Tell me about it.” She flopped back. “I mean, I’m being thorough, but I know I’m not going to find that magic lead that gets us anywhere in what we have.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve done it before.” He perched on the corner of t
he desk and looked down at her.

  She blew out a breath and massaged her head.

  Was that too much pressure to put on her?

  He believed in her ability, maybe better than she did.

  Miles reached out and took her hand. “Why don’t we get something to eat, head back to the cottage and watch a movie? We both need to take our minds off the case for a bit. We’ll think better if we do.”

  “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know.”

  His phone vibrated.

  The medical examiner.

  Shit.

  He pulled it out, looking at the display. But it wasn’t the woman. It was his MI5 contact.

  Miles squeezed Diha’s hand and answered the phone.

  “Tell me something good,” Miles said.

  “Money has been delivered. Our informant confirmed receipt and has instructions for how and where to meet with Eros tomorrow.”

  “We’re meeting with Eros?” he said out loud for Diha’s benefit.

  She sat up straighter and squeezed his hand back.

  “Yeah. Our guy said it won’t be a simple face to face. Eros won’t likely let you see him. Or her. This is so Eros can see you. Five o’ clock. Didn’t get an address and won’t until tomorrow. We were told it's going to be in south London.”

  “That’s not going to work. We can’t meet with him.” Miles wasn’t willing to put him or Diha in the guy’s crosshairs. “I’m going to need people to go in our place, but I want to be there in case we can grab him.”

  Miles doubted Valentino would be on the premises, even if he was calling himself Eros for this job. No, he’d be somewhere else and the best they could do was use this to track him.

  And that would be Diha’s specialty.

  “I can get you some people,” Miles’ contact said. “Let me work on it right now, I’ll email you the details and we can meet in the morning.”

  “Sounds great. Thanks. I owe you.”

  Miles hung up.

  Diha’s eyes were large. “Well?”

  “We’ve got a meet. Tomorrow at five back in London.”