Wintering with George, page 6
I explained about the dogs, my cat, and the people. Another ten minutes after that, he directed me to drive to the airport, to the long-term parking, where there would be an SUV big enough to hold the ark full of humans and animals.
“Ark?” I said because it was overly dramatic.
“Just do as I say.”
I took a breath, feeling the fear wash over me. “Thank you for—”
“God help you if you get maudlin right now.”
“Heaven for-fuckin’-bid.”
He grunted and hung up.
It was a tight squeeze into the Lexus SUV, and I promised everyone it wouldn’t be long. When we left, people were parking on the street in front of their place, ready to be received into Thomasin and Brad’s home for the party.
“Everyone is going to wonder what’s going on,” Thomasin said more to herself than anyone else, “but that’s okay. That’s fine because I’d rather be alive than there explaining things and risking our lives.”
“You can do a lot with this when you get back,” I assured her. “People will sympathize with you, and your popularity will be off the charts.”
“That’s a bit jaded, don’t you think?” she asked me.
“It’s true, though.”
“Yeah, you’re not wrong.”
As I drove—and my cat screamed from inside his carrier because he hated being in there more than anything—Kurt put his hand on my thigh.
“Should I be the one driving with how tired you are?”
“Once we change cars and we’re on our way, I’ll let you drive. I’ll have to. I’m running on fumes at this point, and I don’t want to pass out.”
He nodded. “May I ask how you knew we were in danger?”
“Technically, you and me, not in danger.”
“You know what I mean,” he said in that way where he made his voice soft and calm, but underneath, I could hear the stress and worry. It was the same tone he used when he was talking to patients who were arguing with him.
I took a breath. “You know I have friends I work with at Sutter, and I’m friends with all the men in my unit.”
“I know.”
“And then there are others I’m close to that I used to work with, like Ian Doyle.”
“Yes. I’m aware of that as well.”
“Okay. Well, I have other friends I used to work with that you haven’t ever met, who are now in the private sector.”
“Private?”
“Yeah.”
“Define private.”
“Self-employed people who don’t answer to any government agency.”
“You’re talking about mercenaries.”
“I wouldn’t characterize them that way. Mercenaries, at least the ones I’ve met, are callous and morally compromised, and that’s not any of my friends. They all have a code, even if it’s not always easy to understand.”
“So you’re saying they’re all good people.”
I grimaced. “Good is a judgment call.”
“You’re saying it’s not a black-and-white distinction.”
“Yes. Exactly.”
“Okay… These friends of yours, what you’re telling me is that the things they do are not legal, correct?”
“Sometimes yes, sometimes no.”
“This is sounding worse and worse.”
“It’s not so cut-and-dried, and my friends are my friends for a reason,” I said firmly.
“I know,” he said quickly. “Please don’t think I was questioning you for even a moment.”
And I knew that. I felt my body unclench and knew I’d been bracing for a fight.
“I have no doubt that whoever has your allegiance and trust deserves it and that it goes both ways.”
I nodded.
“Now, all this is to say that you called one of your self-employed friends to assist you with the particular situation we find ourselves in.”
“That’s right.”
“Why? Why not call Ian or whatshisname, your FBI agent buddy?”
“Because I needed us all out now, and law enforcement, any and all of them, can’t protect us. A safe house isn’t enough. We have no idea who’s coming and what their skill set is. I refuse to gamble on that.”
“You’re saying really scary people could be on their way, who the police or whatever other agency might not be prepared for.”
“That’s right.”
Brad cleared his throat. “Could we wait and talk about this when the boys aren’t right here to listen?”
I sighed deeply. “I killed people in front of them today, Brad. So normally, I would agree, but what I’m relating is what is going to keep them safe.”
“I’m the one who told George what you said on the phone,” Toby told his father. “I know you owe someone money, and George is just trying to help.”
The quiet in the car was the kind that would have made me squirm if I were in Brad’s shoes.
“You heard me on the phone?” Brad asked his son.
“Yeah.”
“And you told George?” Thomasin asked.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, then,” she said with an exhale, sounding resigned. “Go ahead and tell us all what’s happening, please, George.”
“As I said, I don’t know who’s coming. But if we went to the police, they would separate us, and I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I don’t want to be by myself,” Dennis said, and I could hear the wobble in his voice, as though he were on the verge of tears. As tired as I was, the boys had to be just as emotionally drained. “Please.”
“No, buddy,” I said flatly. “We’re all gonna stay together.”
He whimpered. “You promise?”
“I do.”
Checking on him in the rearview mirror, I saw him lean sideways into his mother. He needed comfort desperately, and there was no one better than his mom. Toby leaned into her as well, and the three of them made such a beautiful picture.
“Go on,” Kurt prodded me.
“Okay, so I called my buddy Chris, who knows exactly what’s going on with contracts and things like that, and he told me to get out and take you all with me. He doesn’t know who’s coming, but he has a car for us, and either when we get the car, or once we’re on the road, he’ll let me know where I’m going.”
“That’s incredible,” Kurt whispered, and I turned to see his face because it was amazing that he thought that. Most people might have condemned me for not calling the police, doing what they thought would be best. But Kurt, he trusted me and so had faith in the people I in turn believed in.
“Thank you,” I said, smiling at him.
Just for a moment, he put his hand on my cheek, and then moved it as we approached the airport.
In long-term parking, I was supposed to look for a black Chevy Suburban, which the six of us, plus the animals, would be far more comfortable in. Of course it was there, away from the cameras, in the far corner of the lot. It had rained earlier, and the ground glistened under the lights, as did the wet cars, making everything shiny. It felt surreal, like a dream, and I knew I had to be really tired to be noticing so much more than simply the SUV.
Closing in, I noted a Mercedes sedan parked one space away, and when I rolled into the spot between the two vehicles, a woman I knew got out of the passenger side and waited.
Getting out of the car, I smiled at Jing Khoo, a formidable woman who wasn’t my friend, but was instead an acquaintance I considered myself to be on good terms with. She was also one of Jared Colter’s assistants, the man who ran Torus Intercession in Chicago and abroad, and even though I was pretty sure Chris had probably reached out to Jared, hence Jing being here, I was still concerned enough by her presence to close the door behind me and not have Kurt join me.
“Jing,” I said, studying her, checking her body language, seeing that she seemed at ease. More importantly, she wasn’t holding a gun, only a zippered pouch.
“Hunt,” she replied, squinting at me like I was stupid. “Are we saying our names for some reason? Do you want a list of my hobbies?”
Shit. “Sorry,” I rushed out. “I’m really tired.”
“It’s fine,” she said dismissively, handing me the pouch. “I don’t work for Chris, as you well know, but I was in town, and Chris called Jared, who called me. You get the picture.”
I did, and it was a good one of help between friends. “I’m glad to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you weren’t murdered in Minsk,” she quipped.
“You know about that too?”
I got another look like she felt sorry for me.
“Whatever,” I grumbled as the window rolled down behind me.
“Hi,” Kurt said, now in the driver’s seat. He leaned out the window to offer Jing his hand. “I’m Kurt, his boyfriend. And you are?”
“I’m Jing,” she said, taking his hand to shake. “Lovely to meet you.”
“I thought your friends would be scary,” he told me.
Jing chuckled. “Just wait.”
Kurt was charmed by her, I could tell.
She leaned back into the car and came back with a tablet. “Would you do me a favor, Doctor, and put your hand on this tablet for me, and when you’re done, pass it around inside the car?”
“May I ask what this is for?”
“Certainly,” she said, smiling at him. “It’s for security and access to the safe house where you’re going. We’d like you all to be able to get in and out even if Hunt is compromised.”
Kurt’s breath caught.
“While that’s not a contingency we’re anticipating, we have to be prepared. One should always be, don’t you agree?”
He nodded slowly, scanned his hand, then turned in his seat to give Brad instructions who immediately lowered the window behind Kurt’s. He probably wanted to be involved in the conversation as well.
Jing said, “It would be good if the children scanned their hands as well, but if the parents don’t––”
“It’s fine,” Brad said, leaning out of the window. “We want them to be safe.”
“Good,” Jing praised him, smiling, which transformed her face from gorgeous to breathtaking, and I understood why Brad stared for a moment before ducking back inside. Funnily enough, he didn’t roll down his window. It felt like, as beautiful as she was, he still wanted some protective barrier between them.
Jing texted someone on her phone as she leaned back on the passenger-side door of her car. She could not have looked any more relaxed if she’d tried, and there I was, frantic to get going, wanting to get into the new car and drive away.
Once Kurt passed me back the tablet, I went to scan my hand as well.
“Like we don’t have your prints,” she said like I was stupid.
“Nice,” I grumbled.
She smiled, took the tablet from me, then pointed at the pouch in my hand. “Use those cards and that cash and the burner in there if you need to make a call. Yes?”
“Yes.” I opened the zippered pouch to find a burner and three cash bundles of what looked like a thousand dollars each.
“You’re driving to Coos Bay, which is lovely, by the way. It’s a cliché, but there’s literally a cabin in the woods, and that’s where you’ll be staying until the people who are after you are dealt with.”
Had I heard her right? My head snapped up, and I met her gaze. “What?”
She rolled her eyes like I was getting on her last nerve.
“I can do my own protecting and killing.”
“Oh really? Can you? Just you alone with kids and parents and the man you love?”
I groaned because why the hell did she have to add that last part when I hadn’t sacked up enough to say the words to Kurt?
“I don’t think that’s a really great idea, Captain, do you?”
So much disdain and sarcasm along with the use of my title.
“We’re talking about your family, are we not?” she pressed.
They were Kurt’s family, not mine.
“Hunt?”
But really, since he was mine, weren’t they mine too? Didn’t that follow? We’d been together two years, and though this was the first time I’d met them, we’d basically been connected the entire time. I had to stop being on the fence, make a decision, and maybe it started with something ridiculously stupid like claiming the people in the car.
“Yes. My family,” I told her.
“Well, then.” She shrugged. “Yeah. We’re going to take care of things while you fall off the grid with your family.”
I was stunned.
“Why do you look like that? You know this is how it works.”
And I did know because I’d done it for others. Been there for others in their time of need. Sometimes one had to be the hand of God in situations, in the nick of time, the guy standing between the heartbreak of losing those you loved and salvation. At this moment, I was the defenseless one, and someone else was going to step up and kill people so we would live. It was hard to wrap my brain around because it was so unexpected.
I never considered that Chris would get me help. I knew he would get me—us—out of Portland, but I couldn’t have imagined he’d do more.
“I had no idea you and Mancuso were so tight,” she said, passing me a satellite phone. “I missed that in Thailand.”
“We were all a bit busy.”
She nodded. “True.”
“Why do I need a satellite phone?”
Her grimace nearly killed me. “I didn’t know you could call Chris long distance in Barcelona on a local burner.”
God.
“Or is there something I don’t know?”
“Sorry, can you let it go?”
She shrugged.
“I don’t remember you being this much of a jerk the last time I saw you.”
“Yes, but we’re friends now,” she said sarcastically with a little cackle at the end.
I cleared my throat. “Not that I doubt your skill set, but I didn’t have any idea you could take care of—”
“Oh no. Not me,” she said quickly, stepping sideways and motioning toward her car.
I bent slightly, peering in to get a look at the driver, and saw a man I had never met in my life. That didn’t mean I didn’t know who he was. It was the whole his-reputation-precedes-him bit. Everyone knew of him, and when you did meet him, you just knew who he was from how everyone described him. They all said the same thing: that there was an unnerving stillness about the man. And sitting there, regarding me, it was like all of a sudden, the whole world got quiet. All I could hear was my own breathing.
Isaak Skriabin was a legend. If you worked in Black Ops, in Special Ops, you knew him and what he’d done and what he was still capable of. The fact that he was here, close enough to snuff out my life if he wanted, was terrifying.
“Mr. Skriabin,” I greeted him as respectfully as possible. “How are you, sir?”
He grunted. “Isaak is good,” he told me, as if I’d ever greet a man like him so casually.
“Yessir,” I rasped, finding it hard to get my voice to work.
After a moment of looking at me, he tsked. “Listen. I owe Harris, yes? Harris owes Chris, and now we are all good. Me, here, is not for you to take on as debt. It is paid. Yes?”
“Yessir.”
“We will not speak of this again.”
No, we would not.
As far as I knew, Isaak Skriabin, ex-double agent, ex-CIA, was the scariest contract killer working. He was the guy everyone else made sure had not taken a contract before they said yes or no. There were younger guys, but not tougher or meaner or deadlier. I had once seen a portion of his service record, and it was mind-blowing. His body count was inhuman. I could have gone my whole life without ever meeting the man, and that would have been just fine.
On top of that, Chris had called in a favor with Darius Hawthorne—aka Conrad Harris, aka Terrence Moss and however many other aliases the man had—who currently ran a shadow organization called The Vault, and whose resources were not something I could even comprehend. Because yes, there were billions of dollars involved, but there were richer men, richer entities. What made Darius Hawthorne so powerful wasn’t money, it was his contacts and network. Everyone and anyone worked for him. He had connections everywhere on the globe, and because my friend Chris Mancuso had called in a marker, Darius had reached out to Isaak, and now my boyfriend, his family, and our pets were all going to be safe. It was crazy.
“So I should drive to Coos Bay and do what?” I asked Jing.
“Wait for a call on this,” Jing said, tapping the satellite phone in my hand, before leaning into the car and taking another zippered pouch from Mr. Skriabin, which she passed to me. I checked inside and found a Walther PPK and several magazines of ammunition. “This is all I had on me, unless you want my Beretta.”
“I have my Sig. I don’t need another piece.”
Now she was squinting at me. “You have lots of ammo for that Sig on you?”
I didn’t, actually, not with me. I had a lot at home and always carried quite a bit with me when I was on a mission, but she was right; all I had now was what was in the gun. If lots of people came to the cabin in the woods after my family, I would need more than what I had. My resigned exhale was long.
“Yeah, that’s what I figured,” she said snidely. “Now, is the Walther fine, or do you want my Beretta?”
“Do not take,” Mr. Skriabin chimed in. “Is her favorite.”
“The Walther is great,” I assured Jing.
“I don’t think you’re going to need it, as no one who’s really gifted gets out of bed for a contract less than a million, but just in case someone gets past Isaak––”
Loud scoff from the interior of the car.
“––you need to be armed,” she stated flatly.
She wasn’t wrong.
“You remember Arden from our vacation in Bangkok, right?”
It had not been a vacation. Everyone, including me, had nearly died at one point or another during that rescue mission in Thailand. “I remember her, yeah.”
“She’ll be in Chicago next month and will come get my gun. You can also just run it over to Torus when you get home and give it to Shaw James, who runs the office there.”
