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Tonight was a swanky party she was to attend. A small ball for a scientist coming in from Germany. Orion almost laughed at the thought of it. The moment she saw his employer, all shit was going to hit the fan, and he knew it. He could feel it. And he had planned for it.
This was much better, he assured himself as the painkiller began to ease the ache in his foot. A man couldn’t plan his pinnacle job before retirement while in pain. He might miss something, or he could misjudge his timing. Orion couldn’t allow that.
In the past days he’d had to rework his original plan just a bit, but he was confident he could make it work. Whistling silently at the thought, he pulled up his e-mail and let a smile curl his lips.
Contacts. It was all in the contacts a man made throughout his lifetime and what he knew about them.
In the secured in-box was the e-mail he had been awaiting since beginning this assignment. The security code he needed to get inside.
He pulled up the e-mail, memorized the code, and then deleted it.
Soon. Another day or so and he could make his move.
This plan was much better than the last one, and it would afford him the security he had dreamed of having in his retirement.
He had even chosen the perfect little island to buy. It was nearly deserted; the previous owner had built a rather imposing mansion on the single mountain that graced it. The lagoon was the only access to the island. The cliffs that ringed it would make it impossible to breach any other way.
Orion would be safe there. He could play all he wished.
And Orion did so like to play.
He sighed at the thought of retirement. He wouldn’t miss his job, he told himself. He’d grown bored with the ease of each assignment. There was no challenge anymore. Until this one, his final job, everything had come so easy to him. Defeat wasn’t even a thought.
Until that SEAL had pinned his foot with a bullet.
Orion chuckled at the thought of the man. Micah Sloane. He still didn’t have enough information on the SEAL. He had definitely been in the Middle East, though. A little hack and look-see into security command in Iraq assured Orion of that. But even more, he had a few strings there he could pull. He’d called a certain friend who was aware of any and every SEAL that came through. Mac Knight. The bastard had a hell of a name. Orion had established that connection through a friend of Mac’s during one of his leaves several years before.
A friendly little call a few hours before had yielded quite enough information to assure Orion that his SEAL was no more than a SEAL. And not even one as effective as Orion had feared.
It seemed Micah Sloane was in a bit of trouble with his commanders because of insubordination. He might not even be a SEAL for much longer.
Yes, connecting with Knight had been a hell of a thought at the time. A man never knew when he would need information on a mission in the Middle East or a particular soldier. And Orion had arranged it so the somber Mr. Knight would owe him enough favors that he couldn’t exactly say no. It had paid off. Especially when Orion and his employer were required to travel there occasionally.
Orion breathed in with satisfaction.
Micah Sloane wouldn’t be a problem here. It was all in the timing and in the execution.
Orion pulled up his most recent picture of Mr. Sloane and Risa Clay. She had a pretty little glow about her. She was a woman being well loved, Orion mused. And Sloane was obviously enamored of her.
Beside Sloane’s picture was another picture. The face recognition program Orion used had consistently pulled up David Abijah’s face when the picture was placed in the search criteria.
He tapped his fingers against the bed. Micah Sloane couldn’t be two different men, could he?
Orion pursed his lips and shook his head. It shouldn’t be possible. He was going to assume it wasn’t possible, simply because he was very well aware of the guilt that raged inside him over the Abijah family.
Then, he pulled up the picture of his employer and grimaced.
Hurry. Hurry. It was the daily demand fracturing Orion’s nerves. He was going to hurry. It would end this week.
He pulled up the picture of his little island. Yes, by the middle of next week he’d be having fun in the sun. It was all coming together just as he had always dreamed.
JORDAN ANSWERED his cell phone on the first ring.
“It’s Knight.” The major’s voice was a furious growl across the line. “The call came.”
Jordan smiled. He’d known it. The moment he’d realized the threat Knight was to this particular operation, Jordan had known to pull him in.
“The name I know him by is Paul Blade,” Knight stated. “He’s CIA. Came through on a mission with another group a few years ago. A few months later he was in a little bar we had set up on base. We had a few drinks, talked shop. Couple of weeks later he started smuggling whisky in for me. My brand. He called in the favor tonight. Wanted to know about a SEAL named Micah Sloane. I gave him what you gave me.”
