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“That may be true, but as you can see, there is a definite difference in results. If I wanted your fiancée dead, she would be. I don’t make mistakes, Sebastian, and my work is not that shoddy. Perhaps you should have taken her questionable driving record into account before buying the woman a car.”
Uncoiling his fingers, Sebastian stroked the pistol holstered at his thigh, the weighted metal both cold and reassuring beneath his touch. “Maybe,” he stated softly. He refused once again to look the director’s way, but he kept a careful eye on the man’s muscled bulk in the window’s reflection. “If that is the case, you will be willing to help me find out who is responsible for this. I want answers, Marx, and I’m not stopping until I find them.”
“I suggest you focus your attention on the task at hand.”
“I’ve been looking for James. I have always done everything you’ve asked of me. I hardly think this is asking for too much in return.”
“You didn’t report for work for two days. Am I supposed to be impressed by this performance?”
Sebastian bristled and the already perilous hold he had on his temper started to slip. It had always been like this with Marx—a constant battle of push and pull. Only this time, the barbs cut deep and burrowed beneath his skin. Some things, once unearthed, could not be covered or contained again. Turning, he met the larger man’s condemning stare.
“That may be true,” he countered in a venomous whisper. “And I am sure Josh filled you in on where I was, but that wasn’t necessary, was it? You knew damn well where I was. You knew what happened to Taylor. You knew she was laying in the hospital, possibly dying, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me. Now?” He gave a coarse laugh. “Now you refuse to help me look into things? What am I supposed to think here?” he asked, casting his arms open.
“This isn’t a fucking democracy and we don’t lend out helping hands. Get your head in the game and stop focusing your efforts elsewhere. I don’t care where you like to bury your dick or how good she is in bed. I’m not wasting company time or resources on your whore. If you’d kept your damn pet under foot where she belongs instead of letting her run around with your security guard, none of this would have happened in the first place. If you want answers, Agent Baas, I suggest you take a long, hard look in the mirror. Your home life is lax, your team is in shambles. Pull them both together or I swear, with God and country as my witness, I will rip them both away.”
That was all it took. The fragile hold he had on himself unraveled and snapped. Hands hooking, he reached for his gun and lunged. One of the guards stationed between them sprung to Marx’s defense and a hard shove sent him staggering backwards. Before he could react, another lowered their weapon and flung their arms around him, trying to wrestle him to the floor in a constrictive restraint. A second quickly joined the fray.
The threat of lockdown and reconditioning bore down on him, adding to his panic and anger.
“Get the fuck off me!” he roared, struggling to break free.
A hard strike with the crown of his head sent one of the guards stumbling. Fighting against the stab of pain and blindness it inflicted, Sebastian threw a fierce elbow, stunning the other. Still dazed by the hazy cloud lingering in front of his eyes, he jerked his pistol free. The cold click of the safety ricocheted through the room as he stumbled back, swinging the barrel between the two men. The first only managed a step in his direction before the Desert Eagle’s blast roared like a cannon and blew the man’s chest open. Trapped in the same lethal sights, the partner froze, hesitation and terror evident in the wide flare of his eyes.
The doors to his office burst open and Sebastian whirled, his gun swinging in his grip. Thrown off balance by a sudden surge from behind, he sprawled belly first across the floor with a frantic guard on top of him. Black swarmed around him. Bruising fingers bit into his hands and arms, struggling to pin them down and pull his gun free. Sebastian relinquished it with little fight. The gesture threw them off enough to lend them pause. Cashing in on their distraction, he wrenched the knife sheathed against his thigh free and whipped his head back. The back of his skull connected with the other man’s face with a sickening crack. Warm liquid cascaded down his neck. Its coppery tang flooded his nostrils, heightening his instincts. It was the fuel he needed.
He rolled with the guard on top of him, fighting in a struggling frenzy of arms and legs. A rifle butt connected with the side of his temple in warning. Darkness threatened, blacking out the world in front of his eyes, but he wrenched up with all his might. The blade met resistance at first but stuttered past the barrier of bone and sank deep into the man’s chest. Sebastian’s own heaved as he pushed against the crushing weight, his face purpling with exertion and anger.
“BAAS!” Josh’s panicked voice joined the fray.
Before he could seek his partner, the business end of an assault rifle slammed against his temple hard enough to rattle his teeth. He clenched his jaw, bracing himself as the barrel prodded deeper. Stilling, he regarded the flushed man looming over him. The guard’s face set with determination and his wide shoulders tensed as his finger tightened around the trigger.
“That’s enough,” Marx ordered. His voice was quiet but firm. “As displeasing as it is, I need Agent Baas alive.” The director remained inclined against his desk with his arms folded, but a pleasured gleam illuminated the dark pits of his eyes making them shimmer beneath the lights. “You have one of two choices here, Sebastian. Either drop this ridiculous rampage or I will go to the hospital right now and put a bullet in your lover’s skull. Which is it going to be?”
His chest heaved as he closed his eyes and forced his heart rate to slow. It took several seconds before he managed to pull himself together enough to speak.
“I’m fine.”
“I had no doubts you were,” Marx countered. “But that wasn’t the question.”
“I’ll stop,” he growled, still struggling for breath between clenched teeth.
“Good to hear. Lower your weapon and let him up.”
The guard above Sebastian hesitated. Doubt flickered in his eyes, but he slowly eased the rifle away. Taking a step back, he kept his finger curled around the trigger as Sebastian grunted and struggled to his feet. Ignoring the man, he resheathed his knife and tugged his bloodied uniform back into place, still fighting with the heaviness of anger and exertion crushing his chest.
Marx smirked as his steady gaze swept over the carnage. “It looks like I need to find some replacements,” he said, rising to his feet. “Those expenses will come out of your pay as well.”
Sebastian bit his tongue. He didn’t give a damn about the money and Marx knew it. It was just another way to try to needle him and crawl under his skin. The silence was thick between them and his heart hammered as he waited for the other shoe to drop.
“I find this display of emotion deeply troubling to say the least.”
“Sir, with all due respect, Baas has--”
“Did I ask for your input, Agent Reevers?” Marx snapped, interrupting him.
“No, sir.”
“Then do yourself a favor and get the hell out!”
Sebastian felt his lip curl in response. Grinding his teeth, he watched his partner cast a worried glance in his direction and reluctantly leave, dragging his feet as he went. Marx stared after him, shaking his head in disgust, before turning his attention back to Sebastian.
“Do you see where this path will lead you, Agent Baas? Your men, for the most part, are loyal. Much like your family, they will follow you blindly. Think twice about the steps you take and where they might lead.”
A sickening burst of copper flooded his mouth as he sank his teeth into his cheeks. Little did the bastard know he’d managed to think of little else over the past few days.
“Tell me something,” Marx said, circling closer as he adjusted his silver rings.
His stomach rolled in a bout of uncertainty and regret. What would happen to Taylor if Marx locked him down? He shook
, his breathing still labored, as he struggled to calm himself down. As terrifying as the notion was, it wasn’t in his nature to buckle or cave. Tracking the man with his eyes, he stood his ground, refusing to grovel or beg.
“Do you consider yourself a fortunate man, Sebastian?”
He pondered that, still uncertain of the man’s game. “In some aspects, yes,” he replied evenly.
Marx responded with a curt nod. “As well you should. I shouldn’t just lock you down. I should exterminate you for the stunt you just pulled. You are beyond fortunate that your precious little whore is laid up in the hospital right now, because if she wasn’t I would have one of my men yank her in here so damn fast your head would spin. If you ever pull that rabid dog routine again, I guarantee you that is exactly what will happen. Do I make myself clear?”
His heart seized in his chest. Of all the things the man could have said to him, of all the things he could do, that was the worst. The poisoning sear of rage scalded him from the inside out, burning like napalm in his veins. Out of instinct alone, his eyes raked over the floor in search of his gun only to come up empty. Another effective blow. He drew one deep breath and then another, forcing himself to simmer down and swallow what little remained of his pride.
“Yes, sir. Crystal,” he ground through clenched teeth.
“Excellent. I am glad we’ve reached an understanding. That said, I highly suggest you pull yourself together and prove me right in that assessment. Though they wouldn’t be nearly as competent, there are plenty of other men willing to do your job.”
“That won’t be necessary,” he growled.
Shooting the bodies sprawled across the floor a brief look of contempt, Marx smoothed his uniform. “Take the rest of the afternoon off. I expect to see you back here tomorrow. Hopefully by then you’ll have your head on straight.”
His eyes narrowed at the lack of time, but he said nothing.
“Inform Reevers you’re leaving and get someone to clean up this mess,” Marx ordered with a hint of disgust.
Dragging his bloody hands through his hair, Sebastian watched the commander leave. Once alone, his pale gaze riveted on the guard lingering to his left.
