“Garrett?” It was Grace. She needed me.
But Richter wasn’t moving. I’d killed men before, plenty of them, but that had been war. This was… this was about some goddamn egg.Wasit that different? That’s what Task Force Legacy had been about. About stopping men from killing for gold. I couldn’t ever escape that, could I?
Get it the fuck together.
I dropped to one knee and checked his pulse.
It was strong.
Thank fuck.
He was out, not dead.
The red was wine. There was less blood here than there had been in our kitchen, and the man on the floor wasn’t anyone I’d loved. I shoved the memories down where the rest of my life lived and made my hands move.
I pulled Richter’s Glock out of its holster, ejected the magazine, and cleared the chamber. I shoved the mag and his folding knife into one of my vest pouches and secured him with zip ties out of the pouch on my plate carrier. I didn’t bother dragging him clear of the glass.
My rib complained when I stood; it would hurt like hell once the adrenaline faded. My leg wanted to buckle, but I made it hold. Blood was running freely into my right eye, and I wiped it with the back of my hand.
Deep breath, Garrett.
I turned.
That was apparently all the permission Grace needed, because she pushed off the wall and ran into me faster than I would have expected. I got my arm around her waist, caught her against my chest, and just kissed her, no matter how much my jaw hurt. For one blissful moment, the operation, the estate, and the man on the floor behind me ceased to exist. My whole world was her mouth, her hands, and the solid, living weight of her.
I had her. I’d gotten to her before anything happened.
She pressed against my ribs, and I couldn’t hide the grimace. She sprang back. “Oh my god, I’m sorry! Are you okay?”
“Me? Fuck that. How areyou?”
“Fine.” She heaved a deep breath, her hands still on my arms. “Pretty freaked out, to be honest, but mostly fine. You’re hurt, though?”
“I’m okay, but we need to get out of here.” I was bleeding from above my eye, my ribs were on fire, but I had her. I keyed my mic. “Richter’s down. I have the package. How’s everyone else?”
“All guards plus Kessler are down and restrained.” Arthur’s voice in my ear was the steady kind, which meant the rest of the house was as quiet as it sounded.
“Dr. Caulfield was in the collection room with Werner Kessler.” Grace moved toward the doorway with me, her hand gripping my vest from the back. “I don’t think he was just front-running. I think he was on Kessler’s payroll.”
I keyed my mic again. “Arthur, has anyone seen Caulfield?”
“You don’t have him?” Grace asked.
Chatter filled my headset, none of it the words I needed to hear. My gut had told me Caulfield was wrong from the day we met him. I’d let the jeweler theory override it, then I’d let theslimy, not dangerousconclusion override it. Both times I’d trusted the cleaner story instead of my instinct.
“Arthur.” I tucked Grace behind me as we made our way up the stone stairs. “If Caulfield hasn’t run by now, assume he’s armed. He had time to find something while we were clearing the house.”
Grace kept a hand on my back as I cleared the corner. “The egg is in the collection room. We’re getting it before we leave, right?”
“If that’s what you want.” I told the team, “We’re heading for the collection room to get the egg, then we leave.”
“Copy that,” came several responses.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
She didn’t need to thank me. I’d have given her the moon if she’d asked for it. But if all I had right now was one tiny egg, I’d do that first.
Chapter 38
