A Cold Dark Promise (A Wedding Novella) Page 9

  He’d offered to teach her self-defense…

  The idea was tantalizing on so many levels she couldn’t let herself think about it. She knew how to shoot a gun, but the idea of grappling with a man and knowing how to prevent him from hurting her, how to hurt him back…she wanted that. She really wanted that. And the idea of Jack Reilly getting all hot and sweaty while teaching her? She wanted that, too. But first, she needed to concentrate on the most important thing in her life.

  Taylor.

  The boat Ahmed was staying on was just up ahead now. Did the man he’d borrowed it from know about Ahmed’s business sideline? She had a feeling the NSA and CIA would be trying to figure that out in the near future.

  Beautiful people in expensive clothes were standing on the gangplank, which led from the yacht to the quay. Shiny, expensive cars were parked next to the sea wall. The dinner party must be breaking up. She needed to move fast if she wanted witnesses.

  She wasn’t wearing a headset because if she was captured their team didn’t want Ahmed’s people to know she had help. She was the distraction. She didn’t intend to be the weak link.

  And there he was. A man she’d once loved with all her heart. A man whose child she’d born. A man who had beaten her more times than she could count. He was still rugged and handsome. Well groomed. Sharp-eyed. Intelligent. Violent. Mean. Small minded. Vicious.

  Her lungs squeezed as hatred and fear nearly overwhelmed her.

  If it hadn’t been for Taylor she’d have shot the bastard years ago and to hell with it. But Jane didn’t want that to be her legacy. She wanted to be a good person. A good mother. She needed to regain the self-worth he’d stripped from her.

  When she was twenty yards from the boat, Ahmed looked up and away from his guests and his gaze found her, unerringly. He’d always been able to sense her presence. His back straightened. Surprise flickered over his face, replaced by satisfaction, then anger and alarm.

  He spoke into a radio that was attached to his cuff, and she saw shadows move on the deck.

  Ahmed’s guests seemed to sense the sudden tension in the air and started to move toward their waiting sports cars. The women would kill themselves trying to walk down these old, cobbled streets in their skyscraper heels.

  Ahmed clearly wanted to wait for his guests to leave before confronting her, but that wouldn’t be making a scene now, would it?

  “Hello, Ahmed. I want to see our child.” She spoke clearly and calmly, and her voice echoed powerfully across the water.

  “Who is this, Ahmed?” a tall man with a French accent asked him.

  “No one. A crazy person.” Ahmed moved down the gangplank and tried to hurry the man toward his Porsche.

  “I must have been crazy to marry you, and believe your lies,” Jane continued calmly. It helped to see Jack Reilly meandering slowly along the quay toward them.

  “This is your wife?” another man asked.

  “Ex,” Ahmed said bitterly.

  Oh, he still hated her for divorcing him.

  “I thought you said she was dead, mon ami?”

  Jane smiled coldly. “If had been up to him, I would be.”

  “What does she mean?” the tall man demanded.

  “Nothing. She is a nasty woman who tried to steal from me—”

  “You stole from me the only thing that matters. Our child. There is an Interpol Red Notice out for your arrest, and I demand you hand her over to me.”

  The guests looked a little startled at that.

  Jane raised the volume but kept her voice calm. No one ever listened to hysterical women. “I want my child back. If you don’t hand her over as per the court order, I am going to call the police.”

  “She isn’t here.” Ahmed looked flustered now. Torn between not looking like an ass in front of potential investors and probably wanting to kill her with his bare hands, and worried his secret arms deal was going to spiral down the toilet thanks to her actions.

  She hoped so.

  The guests looked at one another. One couple hurried to their car, clearly uncomfortable with confrontation. She’d been like that once. Scared. Pitiful. The other two couples hovered nearby, unsure what to do.

  “Perhaps you two need to talk about this amicably,” the Frenchman tried. “It is surely better for the child to try and work together like mature adults than to argue?”

  Jane cocked her head. “I haven’t seen my daughter for four years because I was stupid enough to think Ahmed would act like a mature adult. He abducted her on her first court appointed visitation.”

  “Not true!”

  Two of Ahmed’s henchmen moved down the gangplank. Good. If they were watching her, they weren’t likely to bump into Alex.

  “Of course, that was after he spent three years of marriage beating the hell out of me every opportunity he got.”

  One of Ahmed’s goons grabbed her by her upper arm. “Time to move along.”

  “Bring her onboard,” Ahmed bit out.

  She pried the guard’s fingers from her arm. “So, you can beat me again? Maybe kill me this time and dump my body in the Med?”

  “Hey!” The voice was very male and American. Dear and familiar. It had soothed her repeatedly over the last few interminable days. “You need some help, ma’am?”

  Reilly.

  She could easily fall in love with a man like Jack Reilly.

  The boat’s engines started, and everyone looked around in confusion. Ahmed darted back onto the ship, shouting in Arabic. The smell of diesel smoke filled the air. She noticed someone preparing to cast off and started to panic. This wasn’t part of the plan. One man tried to drag her toward the gangplank but Reilly smashed him in the face. The tall Frenchman shouted at the other goon who looked like he was about to grab her. Instead they both let her go and sprinted up the gangplank, then pulled it aboard. The boat started to pull away from the sea wall.

  Reilly wrapped his arms around her, holding her in place while she sobbed. “What about Taylor? What about—”

  He pressed her face into his chest, smothering what she was about to say.

  She gripped his t-shirt. Tears filled her eyes as despair bloomed inside. “I’m never going to see my baby again, am I?”

  Reilly drew in a big breath and spoke quietly into her ear. “You have to trust Alex Parker to get the job done. He’ll protect Taylor. He’ll get her back for you.”

  She wouldn’t be bowed, but she just wasn’t sure if she believed in miracles anymore. She lifted her chin and nodded as she watched the boat motor away.

  Another question was, who was going to protect Alex? The odds were impossible now the former assassin had been cut off from his backup. Guilt rose up inside her. She’d dragged him into this mess when he’d been trying so hard to escape and live a normal life. How would she ever live with herself if anything happened to him? How would she ever face Mallory Rooney if she got him killed?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Frazer was in a strip joint in the seedier side of the French Riviera. Two suspected Al Qaeda members were sitting front and center of the runway while another wannabe jihadist was using the can. Frazer couldn’t feign interest in the naked women on stage so he watched with a bored, cynical air that fit right in. It was clear that the women in this club didn’t enjoy their jobs. But then, Frazer knew many were trafficked, others were junkies, most needed the money to feed their families.

  Hard to get aroused by exploitation and desperation.

  His cell rang. Chen. “Masook hauled ass out of the harbor as soon as he saw Jane. Alex is still onboard with Masook and the Moroccan. Killion is hightailing it to Ascension to follow them.”

  Frazer swore. This was not good news, but they couldn’t abandon their plan. Alex could take care of himself, and the kid. Hopefully. Even as Frazer thought it dread sliced through him. If anything happened to the guy Frazer would never forgive himself.

  More importantly, Mal would never forgive him.

  “Okay. Let’s bring Interpol
in on the players we have under surveillance.” These terrorists needed to be stopped.

  There were a few seconds pause as Chen called their liaison, then, “Done. They’re splitting into teams. ETA ten minutes. Logan, Noah and Killion are now all on the Ascension. Should they keep watching the Russian’s boat or follow Masook?”

  He needed to be on that vessel before it left port.

  “Send Matt to follow Masook. He’ll be less obtrusive. I’m on my way to the boat and will be there just as soon as I can. Can you get a visual on Alex’s cell?”

  Chen laughed despite the strain. “For once, yes. I see him.”

  “Whatever happens, don’t lose that boat.”

  “Aye aye, Captain.”

  The third Al Qaeda suspect came back into view with a smile on his face. Frazer suspected he’d had a private lap dance in one of the backrooms. One of the other men climbed to his feet and headed in the same direction.

  Frazer checked his watch. These guys were going to be preoccupied for a little while and, even if they weren’t, he needed to help Alex. He slipped outside into the fresh air and saw the first stirring of police activity at the far end of the ally. As much as he wanted to stay and watch the show he had bigger concerns. If Alex had only been dealing with Masook Frazer wouldn’t be worried, but the Moroccan, Charles Salamander, had an evil reputation.

  Frazer hurried back toward the main street and hailed a cab. The shit and the fan had just collided at high speed.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alex had just opened the safe when he heard the engines start.

  “Masook is on the move. Jane is safely on the quay with Reilly.” The words came through his earpiece, courtesy of Noah.

  Shit.

  Inside the safe was a bright red, waterproof case. Alex retrieved it and carefully opened the lid.

  Five, small, glass vials were nestled alongside an array of hypodermics and surgical gloves. Four vials were filled with powder the color of bleached bone and labeled Bacillus anthracis.

  Alex frowned. Anthrax?

  Presumably the fifth vial of liquid was the vaccine.

  Alex had received anthrax vaccinations during his military service, and yearly boosters while working for the CIA. He hadn’t had an injection in a few years but he should have some immunity left over, which may or may not keep him alive if he was exposed. Not that he wanted to test that hypothesis.

  As deadly as anthrax undoubtedly was—a Category A biological agent, posing the highest potential risk—it didn’t make sense for this many buyers to be vying for this particular organism of death, considering so many countries had their own biological weapons programs. Unless it had been weaponized in some way…

  Great.

  Through the guard’s stolen headphones Alex could hear a commotion going on. He quickly snapped closed the bright red, waterproof box and shut the safe, replacing the painting that hid it. He picked up Masook’s laptop, placed it inside two, large, sealable, plastic bags. He stuffed the whole thing into a laptop bag that sat on the floor and attached a glow stick to the strap. The hard, waterproof case wouldn’t fit inside the laptop bag’s zip pocket so he attached it via the strap and slung the whole thing over his back. He pulled his SIG Sauer with his right hand and headed to the door.

  If he could toss the anthrax and the laptop over the side, Matt could retrieve it from the water. Then Alex would grab the kid and swim them both to shore. The French authorities could pick up Masook and anyone else involved from the boat at their convenience. And at their own peril. Alex had a wedding to attend. He pushed Charles Salamander out of his head. He had better things to think about than revenge.

  Maybe he wasn’t quite as black inside as he sometimes feared.

  He slipped out of the office but heard footsteps coming down the stairs at the end of the corridor. He ducked into a dark cabin that was thankfully empty and listened at the door. There was a lot of jabbering in Arabic in his ear from Masook’s security team. Then the sound of suppressed gunfire came clearly across the feed.

  Shit.

  Someone was shooting.

  Alex looked around and tried the porthole, but it didn’t open. They were moving out of the harbor and into the Med.

  Raised voices in the hallway outside made him freeze. They spoke in Arabic but he understood every word.

  “You’ll never work again.” Masook. Who was he talking to?

  “Ah, my friend, of course I will.” Salamander. Shit. Alex stilled as that familiar hatred and revulsion rose up inside him. “If you’re smart you’ll work with me.”

  “With you?” Masook’s tone was hostile. “For you, you mean.” He was no fool.

  “Working for me beats being dead, yes?” said Salamander.

  “Why are you doing this? This is not how we work. Your client should have paid more,” Masook complained.

  “My client doesn’t just want what you are offering. He wants the supplier, too.”

  So did Alex, but he’d find them with or without Masook.

  Masook laughed sourly. “If I give you that you’ll kill me for sure.”

  Salamander’s oily reply snaked under the door. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

  More indistinct noises as if someone else was joining them.

  “But if you don’t tell me, I will kill your daughter.”

  Alex drew in a sharp breath.

  “How sloppy to bring a child on a business trip.”

  Taylor shrieked. Alex closed his eyes. This op had suddenly gone to shit, and all because Charles Salamander was a treacherous backstabber. If only Alex had pulled the trigger all those years ago…

  “Let me go!” Taylor Masook’s yelp of pain had Alex stretching his neck from side to side. The chance of making his own wedding was getting slimmer, but Mallory wouldn’t stand on this side of the door while a child was in danger.

  Salamander’s voice grew patronizing, and he switched to English even though Taylor spoke Arabic. “I won’t hurt you, little girl. I just want something your father has.”

  “That’s stealing! You’re a bad man. Ouch, you’re hurting me.” She squealed again.

  “Your daddy is a bad man, too. He likes to sell deadly weapons to terrorists, but you live with your delusions, child.”

  “You’re lying. My daddy wouldn’t do something like that!”

  Poor kid. Her dreams were gonna get shattered one way or another, assuming she lived that long. With the laptop slung across his back Alex put his hand on the knob. Time to get rid of Salamander for good.

  “I want the name of the scientist who created it else I’ll put a bullet in your poor, sweet child.”

  Alex paused.

  “Don’t hurt her! I’ll tell you what I know, but I don’t know the name. Let me get my laptop. I will show you my correspondence and how I make payments. Just let her go. This man is easily spooked. He is terrified the FBI is watching him.”

  FBI? What the hell? Was this an American traitor?

  “He will only deal with me. Without me you will never find him.” Masook sounded desperate.

  Salamander enjoyed other people’s fear.

  Alex’s time was up. Once Masook realized the laptop was gone he’d know he’d been robbed. Who knew what Salamander would do to the kid then.

  Alex came out of the room and double-tapped the goon closest to him. The nanny he’d been holding hostage slumped against the wall. Alex turned and then, before Taylor had finished drawing in breath to scream, aimed his SIG between Salamander’s wide, brown eyes. He saw the flash of recognition but didn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

  Click.

  For the first time on a mission Alex’s gun jammed. He lunged for the dead bodyguard’s gun and rolled across the passageway, kicking open the nearest door as bullets followed him and peppered the thin walls behind him. Taylor screamed so high Alex thought the windows might shatter.

  He cleared the SIG and checked the other gun. Both were locked and loaded.

  “Ah, Mr. Parker
,” Salamander called. “So good to see you again after all these years. Come out and bring the samples with you and I won’t kill Masook’s child.”

  Alex pressed his lips together. All he needed was one, clear shot.

  “You have three seconds. Three, two, one…”

  Alex had no choice. He came out and aimed his pistol, but Salamander was completely shielded behind the nanny. Another of Salamander’s henchmen held Taylor around the waist like a rag doll. Masook was nowhere to be seen.

  Alex tilted his head slightly as he looked down the sights. “Hiding behind a woman, Charles?”

  He caught the edge of a smile as the snake ducked back behind the terrified nanny. Maybe she was just the hired help.

  “Ah, I missed you, Alex.” Salamander seemed gleeful at this turn of events. “I had heard that you retired from your position at the CIA, but the rumors were obviously exaggerated.”

  The excitement in his voice crawled over Alex’s flesh.

  “It is a shame that I have to kill you now.”

  Salamander raised his pistol, but Alex shot the gun out of the man’s hand. Salamander screamed in pain, but managed to wrap his injured arm around the nanny’s neck, blood running down her chest and dripping onto the cream carpet. The threat was implicit. Come closer, and the nanny died.

  The henchman holding Taylor raised his weapon to fire, but Alex shot him right between the eyes. The little girl screamed, and he winced. Jane would probably kill him herself for traumatizing her daughter.

  A violent curse erupted from Masook’s office. He was no doubt looking for the bullets to the pistol he kept in his desk drawer. Alex had them in his pocket.

  Taylor scrambled away from the dead bodyguard and ran to her father.

  Dammit.

  Alex walked towards the man he should have killed years ago—and yet, if he had, he might never have met Mallory. Never known true joy. All that suffering had been worth it in the end.

  “Let Josette go,” Alex told Salamander calmly. “And I won’t kill you.”

  Salamander laughed and glanced behind him as if expecting to be rescued. “You won’t kill me. You and I are connected. In the cosmic universe, you can no more kill me than I can kill you. Why do you think I’ve left you alone all these years?”