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“Will I need to know how to do those things?”
Kima’s eyes met Wren’s, who turned to me.
“You will, eventually. Why not get a head start?”
I nodded. “I feel like there’s something else you’re not saying.”
Wren reached over and put her hand on mine. “Darlin’, every woman needs to know how to defend herself. From what I’ve heard, you got away from Mithras all on your own, and I sure as hell applaud you for it. Clearly, you know how to take care of yourself.”
I shook my head. “I really don’t.”
“Then, it’s time you learn.”
18
CAYMAN
“Iowe you my apologies,” I said to Ares after requesting I ride with him in the SUV he was driving.
“Accepted.”
Sitting in the front passenger seat, I looked out the side window as we left the estate, wishing I could still see Bexli. I rested my head against the seat and closed my eyes, wanting to relive every millisecond of our kiss, her mouth swollen and open to mine, the feel of her fingers digging into my flesh in the same way they would when I finally joined our bodies together. I pictured her naked, the pinkness of her skin, the fiery curls between her legs, and her wetness when I spread her legs for the first time.
I’d spent a lifetime wanting her, and instead of making her mine, I was on my way to kill the man who’d almost taken her from me forever.
Every person in this vehicle, in our convoy—myself included—knew Mithras needed to be taken alive. There were others he worked with who needed to be stopped in the same way he did. No matter how often I reminded myself, it didn’t diminish how much I wanted to make him suffer, make him pay for what he’d done to my Bexli. Only his slow, painful death would suffice.
Perhaps I’d be part of his interrogation team. I’d relish his begging and pleading for his life and let him believe I’d allow him to live if he gave up the names of the others who had so little regard for the lives those they offered as slaves to the highest bidder. Then I’d slit his throat and watch him bleed out. I’d stare into his eyes until I was certain of his death and made sure he had no doubt who had sent him to the hell he so deserved.
Since Bexli had flownto the UK from Malta with us, we hadn’t had the opportunity to hot wash the previous ops. The five-hour flight from Gatwick to Sharm el-Sheikh gave us plenty of time to do so. While not every member of the team was on board with us, those ultimately responsible for the mission were. Once we gathered again, we’d perform a follow-up meeting and include the additional notes to the brief.
“Cayman, are you ready to begin?” Z prompted.
The first part of the hot wash was a rundown of each aspect of the mission, starting from the time we landed on Gozo.
While I listened to each team leader and their report, my behavior, my mistakes, replayed at the forefront of my mind. My role in searching the rooms on the second floor and my actions on the beach were unprofessional at best. The op—the mission—had become too personal. Rather than follow my own directive to take all five guards alive, my bullets had killed three of them, according to the standard-procedure autopsies. I’d been reckless.
Even now, finding Mithras and making him pay wasmyvendetta. Whether he was responsible for the abduction and deaths of others, the auctions he’d held, or of other victims he’d trafficked, it mattered far less to me than what he’d done to Bexli.
If I believed a member of my team when I was with MI5 was approaching an op the way I was, we’d have a discussion, followed by a stern warning from me or their out-and-out removal from the mission.
I felt someone watching me, looked up, and saw it was Z. Perhaps he was considering, in the same way I was, how off Pinch had been in his assessment of me as a candidate for MI6.
“If everyone is in agreement, I’d like to suggest we take a short break,” said Z.
His eyes hadn’t wavered from mine. I was the one who finally looked away to gauge the response of those in the briefing. Most were already out of their seats.
“What’s on your mind, Trace?” Z asked.
“Do you truly need to ask?”
“My assumption is you’re contemplating your actions while on Gozo.”
“Of course—”
“And you’ve decided it’s time for you to offer your resignation.”
“A bit like the boy who cried wolf.”
