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“Watch it,” Gunner warned.
Striker was used to ordering the K19 team around, not that any of them had ever paid attention to him. Now, though, things were entirely different. Striker no longer worked for the CIA; he worked for K19, and Gunner had no intention of putting up with shit from him.
There was a clause written into the K19 partnership agreement stating that any of the new partners could essentially be forced out by a unanimous vote of the founding four. The leaving partner would be compensated, of course, but it allowed them a means to get rid of anyone they collectively deemed wasn’t “working out.”
Gunner had no doubt that no matter which partner came to the other three with an issue, it would be respected and dealt with. You didn’t do this kind of work with someone you couldn’t stand to be around or who didn’t follow orders.
—:—
English wasn’t her first language, but Raketa knew what a prop jet was, and the plane she was looking at bore no resemblance to that type of aircraft. However, a plane of any kind seriously thwarted her plan to get back to Baku.
Looking at the jet as they exited the SUV, she guessed it belonged to K19. How Shiver had managed to get it to the private airfield was anyone’s guess. However, MI6 had friends in places United Russia and even the CIA never would.
“Thanks,” mumbled Gunner as they exited the vehicle.
“Safe travels,” Striker said as she passed by him. When he leaned forward to kiss her cheek, it was all she could do to stop herself from taking a step back. It was a friendly gesture and should be taken as such. Raketa just wasn’t used to public displays of affection of any kind.
She remembered being hugged, even cuddled, before her parents died. After that, she hadn’t been shown another sign of affection by an adult.
Gunner stayed behind her as she followed Alegria up the steps to the plane.
“Mantis?” Raketa heard her say, and watched as the two tentatively greeted each other. She witnessed the look that passed between them, and their body language, and guessed that something had gone on with the two operatives at some point in the not-so-distant past.
“Who’s piloting?” Gunner asked, stepping inside the aircraft, behind Raketa.
“I am,” answered both Mantis and Alegria.
It was amusing, at least to her, but neither laughed. In fact, they squared off and glared at each other.
“Mantis is,” said Shiv, coming up to the cockpit from the back of the plane.
“Alegria, you’ll fly the second leg to London.”
London? It would be next to impossible to get back into Azerbaijan if they made it all the way to the UK.
“Have a seat,” Gunner said, ushering her through the galley.
Raketa looked left and right, wishing he’d just choose a seat for her.
“Wait,” he said, walking around her. “Follow me.”
He went all the way to the back of the plane and opened a door.
“Get some rest,” he said, putting his hand on the small of her back and leading her into a cabin that had a bed, two chairs, and a table. “Privacy room,” he explained. “There are two.”
Raketa sat on the edge of the bed and looked into Gunner’s eyes. Had he felt the current of electricity that passed between them at his simple touch?
He shook his head. “I’ll be back to check on you later.”
She watched him walk back out the door, feeling what only could be described as profound disappointment.
She rolled to her side and closed her eyes. Gunner was right about her needing rest. She’d never felt this level of exhaustion.
* * *
The cabin door opened, and Raketa shot upright. She had no idea how much time had passed since he’d left her to sleep.
“Settle down,” Gunner said, locking the door after he came inside.
