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Thalia and Rebecca both seemed confused about heruncle’srole in Thalia’s abduction, but he had no problem seeing him for what he was. If nothing else, Grant was a professional liar. He’d spent his life perfecting that tradecraft, sharpening it into one of the deadliest tools of his profession. He knew skilled deception when he saw it, and this Issa bastard had played a master’s hand. If it was the last thing he did, Grant was determined to find the piece of shit that was ultimately responsible for taking the innocence from the child inside the beautiful, strong woman in his arms. It was time to pull his aces, find out who the key players were and end their game for good. Before they could destroy another beautiful livingsoul.
Without a sound he rolled from the bed and crept from the darkness, his bare feet quiet against the plush carpet beneath him. Carefully, he latched the heavy door closed securely behind him when he entered the adjoining hotel suite. His skin crawled with uneasiness as he took in the skyline beyond the twentieth floor balcony. Either the Bureau was paying the redhead well enough to fork over the cash for this palatial palace or she had someone by the balls. Either way, it was a foolish move to be holed up in the penthouse in the middle of town. He needed to get his hands on that thumb drive and get them the hell out ofthere.
“Is she going to be okay?” Daniel paced to the closed door, his hand resting on thedoorknob.
“Don’t.” Grant threw the warning over his shoulder as he walked past Daniel to the other side of the room and pulled the curtains closed. “She’s done in. Let herrest.”
“She’s stronger than you think if she’s survived this long,” Rebecca said, her elbows resting on her knees as she studied the screen on the laptop in front of her. “It may not seem like it, but it was good for her to release her grief. Give her some time toprocess.”
Gritting his teeth against the rage that flowed through his veins, Grant marched over to her laptop and slammed the lid closed. “What youdon’tknow about her and this situation is going to get us allkilled.”
Rebecca didn’t flinch. She straightened her spine and slid back onto the sofa cushion. “Then tell us, Mr. Kendal. What do we need to know to get the bastard who did this toher?”
“I don’t give a damn about that right now.” Daniel paced to the polished hardwood curio and poured himself a glass of what looked like expensive bourbon, his lips twisting in protest as the spicy fire burned its way down his throat. “I only want my daughterback.”
“She’s not the same little girl you lost, Daniel. We’ve talked about that.” Rebecca stood, running her palms down her prim slacks, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder before she walked over to a black briefcase sitting on the floor by the front door. Hoisting it up and sitting it on top of the bar in front of Daniel, she opened it and pulled out a well-worn file stuffed to bursting with dog-eared pages. “She’s safe, Daniel,” she said, pausing to rest her free hand on top of Daniel’s. “I have a job to do now. That’s why you brought me here. We have to strike now to get thesebastards.”
The thin thread left of Grant’s patience snapped free from his grasp. Shattered pieces of Rebecca’s laptop littered the marble floor in the small foyer at the front door before he could think twice about the loud crash waking Thalia. These fucking people didn’t getit.
“Both of you shut the hell up and listen to me.” His nostrils flared, each labored breath working against his rising heart rate to calm his temper. He wasn’t accustomed to losing it, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to now. Instead, he carefully focused his rage on those who deserved it and turned his attention to the only two people who could help him get Thalia the hell out of there. It was time they were educated on exactly who they were dealing with and what needed to bedone.
Twenty
Dusk felllike a blanket across the quiet marina, the humid air making the newspaper in Grant’s hands curl and sag against its weight. He sat on a sailboat docked across from the graveyard where Thalia’s uncle was buried. His legs were stretched out, his back propped against the tall mast as he pretended to read. Judging by the amount of shale build-up on the hull, the boat’s owner hadn’t been around in while. That played perfectly into his plans as he sat comfortably and watched the comings and goings of a three block radius from his inconspicuous, uninhabitedperch.
He casually turned the page, peering over the top of the paper as a woman and small child walked along the broken sidewalk, turning left into the spacious graveyard. The bill on his ball cap shielded his watchful eyes as the woman released the child’s hand and rolled open a paper bag, carefully laying three dried rice balls on a modest looking headstone before wiping away a tear and turning to leave. A relatively outdated custom he couldn’t have cared less about, but he did find it a little odd that she hadn’t lingered. The suspicious thought strayed as he pictured Thalia kneeling there, the sobs he’d witnessed hours earlier wracking her normally strong frame as she mourned heruncle.
He’d never spoken the wordsI love youto another human being. He’d never wanted to speak them more than he did to her as she cried herself to sleep in his arms. It wasn’t fair to add that emotion to an already overwhelming tide of confusion, pain, and grief. They had time. As soon as he took care of Jauhar, Don Lalia, and Hamisi she would be safe and he would go to her. Tell her that he wanted forever with her. He needed forever withher.
He’d been looking for something when he marooned himself on that island. He didn’t know it then, but there had always been an emptiness inside him he longed to understand. In the past he filled that void with the rush of his job, always moving from one target to the next, never looking back to see what he might have missed along the way. He’d been good at simply existing, thriving on solitude, but he’d missed something; something he never knew he wanted. He’d been looking for her. He wasn’t sure if she would have him. He sure as hell didn’t deserve her, but living without her was no longer anoption.
After explaining what she was up against to Daniel and that rabid redheaded bulldog he’d brought with him, he was confident everyone was finally on the same page. The only important thing was getting Thalia out of Jauhar’s reach. He’d secure the thumb drive, and by the time he got back to the room they would have everything arranged. One flight to Montana. One to Mumbai. Once Thalia was safely hidden away he would make his play on Jauhar, take out the threat on her life, and then make his way home toher.
After two hours of surveillance, he saw no suspicious movement in or out of the surrounding buildings or boats. Positive the gravesite wasn’t being watched, he folded the newspaper, letting it drop over the side of the boat as he hopped to his feet. With a casual stretch of his arms, he scooped up his backpack, hoisted it over his shoulder and stepped off the boat. His free hand rested nimbly on the gun tucked neatly in his waistband beneath his dark-blue windbreaker as he wandered at a leisurely pace down the dock and up the steps leading to the street. A few moments later he was strolling through the middle of the graveyard, counting the rows of headstones to mark his target before heapproached.
Snagging a single rose from an unknown tomb, he stepped up to the grave marker Thalia had described. Taking one last unnoticeable glance to check his six, he bent to change out the flowers, palming the plastic bag containing the thumb drive as he placed the stolen rose into the vase. It was there, like she’d said it wouldbe.
He stood and stared at the unimportant name on the headstone, his fingers playing along the contours of the thumb drive now stashed securely in his pocket. Like the woman and child, a quick departure could raise suspicion. After a few solemn moments, his well-honed senses felt no prying eyes upon him. He allowed himself to entertain the curiosity burning in his gut. He simply couldn’t ignore it. His calculating eyes roamed the rows of headstones, counting the appropriate number until they rested on the object of that curiosity. He was drawn to it like a moth to aflame.
Issa’s memorial stone stood a head taller than the other stones in that section of the buried dead. Unable to harness his need to know, his feet moved swiftly over the grass toward the domineering monument that marked the grave of the man who held Thalia’s undeserved affection. His pace slowed as he approached, the chiseled letters of the tribute coming into focus along with a framed photo embedded into the top of the intricately carvedmarble.
His heart leapt in his chest when Thalia’s silver, sparkling eyes stared back at him from the picture, full of life and fire, almost daring him to love her. She looked different now, hardened and more aware of the evil in the world. Her powerful yet innocent smile beamed back a happiness he’d never seen her express in the short time he’d known her. He knew it would be difficult, but standing there alone in the middle of so much death he made a silent promise to bring that happiness back toher.
His eyes flickered to the image of the older looking man in her arms, the man she’d vowed to avenge. The hair on the back of his neck suddenly prickled to life with disbelief. There, staring back at him, were eyes of a man that reflected too much knowledge of his own wickedness. A man he was far too familiar with to believe for one moment he’d had nothing to do with Thalia’s abduction. A man he’d studied and watched. He knew every nuance, every habit, and every movement this bastard made in the last few days of his despicable life. Staring back at him with a mocking smile was a man who knew he’d just extracted his own twisted, fated revenge. In the grave beneath his feet rested the body of the last man Grant had killed in service to hiscountry.
His blood turned to ice as he read the name on the headstone again before looking back at the man in the picture.Issa was Imad Shavish. The man who had been at the top of the food chain for dealing arms to the Al Qaeda terror organization; the only person in the world Thalia had ever loved, and he’d killed him with a single bullet.Son of abitch.
Sweat laced his palms. A chill flushed beneath his skin as fiery bile burned its way to the back of his throat. The crash of his heartbeat drumming in his ears drowned out any sounds of the violent retching that instantly wracked his entire body. Forearms braced against a nearby tree, he doubled over in fierce, involuntary spasms. His soul was ripped away as wave after wave of sickening images of blood and death he’d never before allowed to haunt him, now plowed over and destroyed any happiness he’d allowed himself to believe in. He knew. He’d known all along he was never meant to know the kind of life he dared allow himself to imagine with Thalia. He would never be anything more than a mindlesskiller.
I killed Issa.A twisted laugh mingled with his hoarse cries of self-loathing and gut-wrenching loss as another wave of bile spewed from his mouth. It was ironic how fate would bring her to him and then snatch her away just as he understood that losing her would all but destroy him. He deservedit.
Begging for forgiveness was pointless. She would never understand. She would never see Issa as the man he knew. A man who never thought twice about the multitude of deaths he facilitated in a quest for money and greatness. The man was a plague to the human race. There would be no forgiveness for something he couldn’t bring himself to regret. It was a righteous kill. But that would make him a monster in her eyes. He could imagine her beautiful face; see it twist in vile disgust as the soulless creature inside him was revealed to her. He would never be anything more than a murderer toher.
He didn’t think he could stomach the cold hatred he knew would fill her damning eyes when she discovered the truth. He was the authentic target of the revenge she sought for Issa’s murder. He could feel his rage at the injustice of it all bubbling to the surface as he labored for each calming breath. Jauhar may be innocent of the crime she sought to kill him for, but he would still die a merciless death at his hands, if only to secure her future safety. It would be, no doubt now, a future withouthim.
Swiping the back of his hand across his numb lips, he straightened and embraced the increasing weight of the returning emptiness that had once been his closest companion. He was a killer. Nothing would ever change that. Not now. Not ever. In his pocket he held the key to reaching his next target. Once more he would stalk his prey. Once more he would feel the soul drain from another worthless life as he condemned it to the pits of hell where itbelonged.
Another wave of bone chilling awareness splintered like shards of ice beneath his skin as his trembling fingers wrapped around the thumb drive tucked deep inside his pocket. No one knew what was on it. It was obviously damning enough to have both Jauhar and Don Lalia foaming at the mouth and willing to kill for it. If Imad Shavish’s empire was somehow linked to Jauhar’s, and Jauhar was now in business with Don Lalia…the NSA, shit, an entire alphabet soup of agencies would ass-fuck each other on a national stage to get their hands onit.
