Artful Dodger, page 18
He rolled his shoulders, his head starting to pound. “I trust you, Chry. But I know you. The guys, on the other hand…”
She leaned on the table, and he caught once more that elusive fragrance. Her smile was like quicksilver, flashing in her eyes, curving her lips and disappearing. “Yeah, you do, and I can’t blame your teammates, but Striker is skeptical about Harry and that leaves me just out of his range of comfort.”
He smiled, looking over at his brother. “He was always looking for an angle, still is. We couldn’t help it, considering the dad we had. Makes him a good SEAL.”
She nodded. “I know. But I’m not the enemy.” She shifted closer, lowered her voice. “We just got a target package.”
“Who?” He wished he could find somewhere to swim. Water soothed him, but if they had a target package, there was just going to be enough time to get some rest before they had to head out.
“Andrea Bendarik. We get another crack at him.”
“This time are there going to be noncombatants?”
She winced and he almost missed it as he’d looked away. “Just his family.” Her chin lifted. She had an inner steel. Her last name fit her and her grandmother to a T. “I’ll see you back at the ready room,” she said, then turned and walked away.
2-Stroke watched her lovely back and tight butt as she left, smooth stride marred with that giveaway sway. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but he couldn’t seem to think fast enough. He didn’t trust his own reactions anymore, because sometimes he felt as if he was slipping deeper into the shadows. He picked up his case and gestured to his brother, who nodded. He would deal with it. That’s what SEALs did. He’d managed everything else. He could live with this nagging uneasiness. He could.
More than enough reason to keep his mind on the mission. Chry could do nothing but complicate his life.
“What guy?” Anna asked. God the man cleaned up nice. He’d trimmed his stubble down from unruly to sexy, and the suit he wore was impeccable and expensive, both the tie and shirt silk. It was hard to reconcile this man with all this wealth. Dodger was one of the most down-to-earth people she’d ever met.
“A chap who can get the ball rolling.” He tucked her hand in the crook of his arm and together they went down the staircase, just as the grandfather clock in the hallway started to chime.
They entered the gorgeous dining room with the long table, and Anna thought they must have massive parties here. It would be something the filthy rich did. By the time the sixth chime rang, he was pulling out her chair for her, waving off the butler.
She slipped into the seat. “You are ravishing tonight, luv. You look like you’re wearing a midnight sky.”
“Stop being charming and trying to change the subject. I’m a CIA agent. I have ways of making you talk, you pain in the—”
“Oliver,” his mother said, preceded by a man with silver hair who touched the small of her back. She was beautiful, his father handsome. It was clear where Dodger got his drop-dead looks.
“Mum, Dad,” he said embracing her and shaking his dad’s hand.
“Good to see you.” They both focused on her.
“This is Anna Keegan from California. I met her while on vacation.” He was as smooth a liar as she was.
“How lovely to meet you,” his mother said, and his father nodded his greeting.
The three of them sat down and the servers began by placing their soup and pouring the wine.
“So, what do you do, Anna?” his mother asked.
“I’m a photographer for National Geographic,” she said. As far as she was concerned, it was still her cover.
“That must be exciting. Do you travel around a lot?”
“Yes, constantly, but it’s very rewarding.”
“And you know that Oliver is a Navy SEAL?”
“Yes, I’m aware.”
“Mum…”
“I’m just making sure she knows that you have a challenging job.” His mother’s affection was quite clear, and they must know about his heartbreak over Hermione. His dad might not as much, but a mother always knew when her child was distressed. She felt a sharp pang thinking about her own mother, her family finding out she was a disgraced CIA operative. That she’d concealed so much from them. It was easily the hardest part of the job.
“She takes pictures of charging lions and braves places only Special Forces would attempt to infiltrate, so Anna can hold her own with the wilderness, the jungle, the desert, mountains, the city, the country—any environment, and she can handle me.”
His mother laughed softly, a genuine gleam in her eye. “Can she?”
He reached out, clasped her hand, and squeezed it, giving her a tender look that just about cut her off at the knees. Could she fall any deeper in love with Dodger?
She dropped her fork and it clattered against the plate. Trapped by the intensity of that gaze, Anna stared at him, all her feelings for him swelling up inside her. She was in deep trouble.
She was in love with Oliver Graham. Oh, her stupid, wayward heart.
“Well, my boy, that’s good. We Grahams need that strong stock. We’re a bunch of bloody difficult blokes.”
His mom’s mouth dropped open. “Henry!”
They all burst out laughing, but the tension inside Anna only sat heavier on her heart. She should have known that she wasn’t going to be able to resist anything about Dodger, especially losing her heart to him. It had been inevitable, and she had misjudged her ability to keep herself from falling all the way.
As they rose at the end of the meal, Dodger said, “I have another mate visiting, Mum.”
“That’s fine.”
He cleared his throat. “It’s someone I met after Hermione and I…he’s a good mate.”
“We look forward to meeting him,” his mother said, then squeezed his arm. “You should show Anna the gardens, they’re beautiful at night.” She briefly touched Anna’s arm. “We hope you enjoy your stay with us, my dear.”
Anna nodded. They left the dining room.
“Walk with me?” Dodger asked, holding out his hand. He was glad when she took it. Being home felt good, but his adopted country was now where he belonged. He’d rejected his family legacy a long time ago and worked out all the sore spots with his family. He was lucky his parents had realized that he needed to find his own path and let him go without a fight. He’d joined the Royal Marines, then become part of the Special Boat Service. He’d never looked back. His father couldn’t have been prouder of him, always saying that military service was a proper career.
He slipped out of his suit coat and draped it over her shoulders.
He led her out the back of the house, through double French doors into his mum’s pride and joy. Her garden. It stretched ahead of them with winding paths, an abundance of flowers that were in season, and enough greenery to feel positively relaxed. He really didn’t know the names, but they smelled good. Small lights were strung up in the bushes that lined the way along the path he chose that would take them to the lily pond, the sound of frogs and crickets growing louder as they approached.
They sat down on the wooden carved bench and breathed in the night, their breaths fogging the air.
“It must have been amazing growing up here.”
“It was. We had a lot of fun.”
“The pond is beautiful. Do you have ducks?”
“I didn’t bring you down here to talk about bloody ducks,” he growled, then sighed.
She angled her body toward him, cupping his face. Her thumbs strumming along his skin were soothing. “I know, but there’s no point in it, Dodger. We are where we are in this relationship. There’s no going forward because of too many pressures, Max, the brotherhood, and I’m a fugitive from justice.”
He huffed out a hard laugh. “Oh, that little complication.” With what they were going to be up against in the next day or two, the reality of the parameters of their temporary partnership shouldn’t be at the forefront of his thoughts. “Look at the one who’s putting up roadblocks. But they were my conditions. I guess I can’t complain or argue.” The probable outcome of the mission they were on, and the fact that it was dangerous, and they were both outside of any kind of authoritative jurisdiction, should be his number one worry.
It was shocking, really, and hard to even admit as much to himself. It shouldn’t be. She’d never been far from his waking thoughts, despite the elapsed time since their last meeting, and with no promise of ever seeing each other again.
She was burned, wanted for treason, and he was a Navy SEAL locked to a chain of command he was completely ignoring. Both their careers were in question here, and he was thinking how hard it was going to be to say goodbye. How much he wanted…more. Whatever that entailed. It was a nebulous thought, something that would be hard to nail down. He had no idea how they were going to get out of this in one piece. But there was no way they could turn their backs on the intel Anna was deft enough to acquire. There was only one thing to do: press on.
People were counting on them to deliver, as they always did. This was not the time for selfish pursuits, much less delusional ideas that there could ever be more here than a very intense, deeply passionate, and physical relationship.
What had happened to his fear?
He realized that Anna was strong, sweet, tough, and principled. He also realized that she was the type of woman who would be straight with him. She would never do to him what Hermione had done. With that knowledge, he could find the courage to offer his heart again. But as she pointed out, it was smarter to just keep on as they were.
He slipped his arm around her and hugged her close. “Yes, we have bloody ducks and a couple of swans. Don’t be seduced by their beauty. They’re nasty creatures. One of them bit me on the arse for getting too close to her clutch of eggs. Every time she saw me, she chased me.”
Anna laughed softly and snuggled up to him, nuzzling his neck. “Oh, Dodger, you are the most wonderful, charming man.”
“Yeah,” he grumbled. “I’m a bloody prince.”
Mouse arrived early the next morning as Dodger found himself getting antsy. He needed to find something to do before he climbed the walls. He heard voices before he saw Mouse.
“I wanted to meet you for some time and tell you how honored I am to know your son. He helped me and my family in a very tough time in our lives, and for that we’ll forever be grateful. I hope you’ll take these small tokens of my appreciation.”
Dodger walked into the room, ready to give Mouse an earful, when he saw how humble he was toward his parents. He held out a wrapped package. “It’s homegrown garlic and we think it provides strength and protection. Perhaps you can hang it in your kitchen. Also, I stopped and picked up some dried mushrooms that we believe give health and strength and are used in our traditional kuba meal along with barley, garlic, onions, and spices. My mother included her recipe for it and for a cream of mushroom soup that’s wonderful for colder days.”
His mother accepted the parcel and Mouse smiled wide. “Thank you. We’ll have our cook prepare both while you’re here.” His mother’s voice caught a little. “We couldn’t be prouder of our son. Thank you for your gifts.”
“Are we done with this Dodger party? I need Mouse.”
His parents beamed at him and he shook his head. Mouse looked at him sheepishly, but with challenge in his eyes. He was determined to sing Dodger’s praises, and it was time Dodger finally let him thank him. “Thanks, Mouse, for your gifts.”
Mouse hugged him hard and Dodger laughed softly, slapping his back. He led the way and when they got to his room, Mouse settled in at Dodger’s desk. He pulled out his laptop.
“Any more emails?”
“No, it’s been quiet, but I’ve been tracking Minar and there’s been no meetings yet. This is supposed to happen this week. So, uh, why isn’t he handling his suicide bomber friends?”
“Good question. Maybe he’s just the logistical guy, getting the vests into the Trust Event and isn’t going to hook up with the bombers,” Dodger said. “Bollocks.”
“This is going to complicate us keeping this under the radar,” Anna said. “We have no choice but to attend the event and hopefully prevent the vests from detonating.”
“Everything looks glittery and calm,” Mouse said through Dodger’s minuscule ceramic earpiece. Mouse was a resourceful guy and had not only easily tapped into the security system of the Rhodes House, located in the center of Oxford University, but had gotten them the earpieces and the button camera located on Dodger’s tux. He’d also got him security clearance under a false name. “This event is bringing together some of the brightest leaders who have character to spare. You’ve got to stop this, Dodger. The loss of life would be criminal.”
“That’s why we’re here,” Dodger said as he and Anna worked the room. He glanced around but saw nothing out of the ordinary yet. He strolled, comfortable in his tuxedo, and listened to conversations, hoping to pick up any suspicious exchanges.
“Minar is still in his flat,” Mouse said. “He’s definitely going to stay away from the action. He was just the explosives guy after all.”
“That was my guess,” Anna said. “Nothing yet—hold on, a waiter I don’t recognize from the batch of photos your friend sent just came out of the kitchen. Dodger, I think it’s one of the bombers. He looks the part.” There was silence, then Anna said, “Oh, God, it is him. I see the detonator. Cylindrical tube with a red button.”
“Shadow him and I’ll signal you when I find the other one.” Dodger stepped up his surveillance, casually pretending to bump into people. The room was packed, and he wanted to shout for them all to get out, but he couldn’t. The two bombers would detonate.
He slipped between two young women talking. One was wearing a head veil and Dodger paused. They had been looking for men, but when he discreetly stood near them and looked down, he saw the detonator in the suit pocket of her tailored pantsuit.
“Got her,” Dodger murmured. On the count of three.” He turned toward the woman smiling. “One…two…three.” Reaching out, he quickly grasped both her hands and flex cuffed them behind her back.
There was a commotion on the other side of the room. The sound of a metal tray clanged against the ground followed by breaking glass. The woman struggled, but he held onto her, trying to see.
“Anna?”
There was no answer and the crowd parted to show Anna grappling with the man’s hand. He was trying to reach the detonator. His coat flapped open and someone screamed, “Bomb!”
Dodger shouted, “Get out!” The room erupted into chaos as people ran for the door. Dodger clipped the woman on the chin, disabled the bomb, and took the detonator as he set her down on to the floor, then shoved his way through the crowd to get to Anna. The man punched her in the face, and she reeled back but came back with a vengeance, latching onto his arm again. He shoved her away from him, and she hit the wall hard, sliding down into a motionless heap. There was blood on her arm and her mouth. Dodger lost it.
The terrorist grabbed the detonator.
Dodger was too far back to reach him.
Anna!
15
2-Stroke, tacked up and ready for the Bendarik HVT mission, had just slipped out the front doors with the rest of the team when a black Mercedes roared up to the curb and a woman stepped out. She was tall, had dark auburn hair and walked with an unmistakable confidence.
Katherine “Kat” Cross, formerly Harrington, was a CIA station chief. She was married to Orion “Wicked” Cross, a member of Bowie “Ruckus” Cooper’s team. He knew her from their get-togethers with Wicked’s team, most recently a barbeque.
“Kat,” Fast Lane said. “We were just on our way to the apartment complex to take down Bendarik.”
“No, you’re not. We need to talk inside.”
They all moved back into the building and upstairs to the ready room where Chry was waiting. She didn’t look surprised when Kat walked in.
“I know this is last minute, but I wanted to save you another calamity. The HVT is not at the Stanislav apartment complex. He is, in fact, heading for a private airport to be flown out of the country.”
“Another ambush. But we got this intel from Harry Grant,” Fast Lane said.
“Harry and his family are dead.” She nodded to Chry, who clicked on a screen with a gruesome picture of Harry, his wife, and two small daughters dead. “Chry just found him murdered along with his family,” she said solemnly. “His children were five and seven.”
There were murmurs around the room, and 2-Stroke felt that familiar rage at the senseless death of children. Too many innocents had died on this op.
“How did you—”
“I called her,” Chry said. “I figured she was someone we could trust, and we desperately needed a fresh presence here. I suspected that Harry was compromised. We believe that Darko’s thugs did the dirty work, but Kelly was behind it. For what purpose, we don’t know at this time.” Chry clicked the screen and up popped their former CIA liaison. “Kelly Sparks. I’ve been digging into her as part of my undercover mission. But this is not Kelly Sparks. She assumed Kelly’s identity. We found the real Kelly Sparks’s body buried beneath the floorboards of her family’s abandoned farm. She was murdered some two years ago.”
“My asset in the field, and where I got my information, confirms that this Kelly has been seen with Darko Stjepanić. We believe they’re responsible for coercing Harry into giving you tainted intel and luring you to the warehouse with the payoff of apprehending Darko. At this moment, Chry is working to find out who she really is and where she is,” Kat said.
2-Stroke would be at the head of the line on that mission. It was disgusting how she had worked against them while pretending to be one of them, highlighting the depth of her betrayal, this woman who they thought they had known. She had a lot to answer for.
Kat took the clicker that Chry offered her. She put up another slide. “This is the Prague Kbely Airport. It’s small but does fly private jets out of there. This is where we’re going. I have a helicopter waiting on the flight line and the permission of the Czech government. They want Bendarik apprehended just as much as we do. We’ll be running this op from another location. This one is compromised.”
