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“I have a photo,” she continued, disregarding the fact that he’d, in essence, told her not to continue.
Rather than answering, Gunner glared at her.
Striker briefly turned his head. “Drop it for now, Mondreau,” he murmured. “Get some rest, man,” he added, looking over his shoulder at Gunner.
He groaned inwardly, wondering what the hell he and his partners had been thinking by adding the two operatives sitting in front of them to their permanent team.
Get some rest? Had Striker actually said those words to him? If Razor were here, he’d be laughing so hard he wouldn’t be able to speak. Doc, too. Mercer might find it funny, but Gunner figured he’d kept their youngest founding partner intimidated enough, over the last couple of years, that he’d never laugh out loud.
Not to mention that Alegria had completely ignored him when he made it clear he didn’t want her to continue asking questions about the other person being held captive by Petrov.
Once he knew what the plan was for Raketa, he would call a meeting of the original four partners and reinforce some of their ground rules.
While the newbies were technically “partners,” they each held a minor share of the company. He, Doc, Razor, and Mercer still owned seventy-five percent of K19. The remaining twenty-five percent had been equally divided between Striker Ellis, Onyx Yáñez, Alegria Mondreau, Monk Perrin, and Dutch Miller.
They’d offered a spot to Mantis, but he’d turned them down. Gunner wasn’t sure what to make of that, but it really wasn’t any of his business.
There had been talk, mainly by Razor, about offering a partnership to Shiver Whittaker, but since he was next in line to run MI6, they’d decided to put that idea on the back burner.
The only other person Gunner had heard mentioned as a possible new partner was Raketa. Bringing her on as a contracted operative was one thing. That, he might be in favor of, but he’d never agree to offering her a partnership.
She stirred, murmuring something unintelligible in what sounded more like Azeri than her native Russian.
He knew that in her line of work, mastering not only languages but dialects too, was a necessary core skill. Perhaps she’d decided honing the language of Azerbaijan would be beneficial while being held captive by Petrov.
To Gunner’s relief, they were getting close to Alat, which meant they’d soon be transferring from Striker’s escort to Shiv’s. It wasn’t that Gunner doubted the CIA agent’s ability to handle their current situation; it was simply that he would feel more confident with Shiver any day of the week.
Marquess Thornton “Shiver” Whittaker was one of the best operatives in the world. He and Gunner went way back to one of his first missions for the NCS.
Right out of training, Gunner was as green as they came. Doc and Shiv were both leads on that first mission, which meant he couldn’t screw up too badly without either of his commanders cleaning up after him. He ended up learning a great deal from both men on that op.
It was Shiv’s stealth that had impressed him the most. Gunner had studied, emulated, and finally asked Shiv if he’d consider training him. He’d agreed, and the two had been friends since.
In the world they operated in, Gunner was second only to Shiver in his ability to get in and get out of almost any situation without anyone ever knowing he was there.
“Where are we?” Raketa asked, sitting up and moving away from Gunner.
“Almost to our rendezvous point,” he told her.
“Change of plans,” said Striker from the front seat.
Gunner tensed.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“Why?” he asked Striker.
“Something about a plane.” The man smiled in the rear-view mirror.
“Sonuvabitch,” he muttered.
“This is a good thing, Gunner,” Striker added.
“It’s just a prop jet, but it’ll get you out of Azerbaijan faster,” reported Alegria.
“Where’s Shiv?” he asked.
“Meeting you, asshole. Do you not appreciate—”
