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“The team is on the way back,” Jennings said, clapping a hand on Teag’s shoulder before joining the small group at the table. “We’ll find her.”
Teag had a tight relationship with both Tank and Jennings, as they’d been the ones most often at his side during the tour. He knew the whole team had taken it hard when shit went bad on their watch, especially Maria. But Jennings too had privately apologized to him, as he’d been the last person to see Teag that night. Learning Teag hadn’t been the target at all had gone a long way to easing the team’s collective guilt, but Teag knew the weight of failure hadn’t totally been lifted from their shoulders. Teag blamed no one but Ivanovich, and whoever was behind the hit.
He knew he should tell them about the package awaiting him in the lobby downstairs, but the words stuck in his throat. Icy dread gripped him. If Ivanovich had Annabelle…
His thoughts were abruptly cut off when the door swung open and Cam Taylor strode in, followed by Maria and Marco. Teag’s stomach sank. Cam looked like he wanted to break something. Marco looked like Marco always did, broody and dangerous, and Maria looked as tense as he’d ever seen her. When his eyes met hers, she shook her head slightly, and his gut churned.
“He’s not there,” Cam announced. “I left Davies behind to watch the building. If he comes back, we’ll know.”
“Do you think he got to my sister?” Teag asked. A thick silence filled the room for the space of a heartbeat.
Cam’s jaw ticked, and he ran a hand through his sweat damp hair. “I think we have to plan for that possibility.”
Teag gave him a small nod and stood. “I need to call my mum back. I promised I’d give her regular updates.”
“Are you sure you want to put this idea into her head?” Maria asked.
Teag shook his head. “No, but I’ll tell her Annabelle’s not in a hospital and we’re working through police reports. She’ll appreciate hearing from me,” he said softly, unable to look Maria in the eye.
He walked quietly into one of the suite bedrooms and shut the door. In the main room, he heard Cameron issuing orders, and the team hustling to implement them. Before he could second-guess himself, he grabbed a set of keys from the nightstand, slipped out into the empty corridor, and hurried down the hall.
Trekking down fifteen flights of stairs had him winded, but he didn’t need the hassle of running into someone who might recognize him. With his head down, he approached the front desk. Even with a baseball hat on his head, and a long-sleeve t-shirt covering his recognizable ink, the receptionist’s eyes widened.
She quickly schooled her expression and cleared her throat. “What can I do for you, sir?”
Teag couldn’t muster even so much as a grin. “You have a package for me?”
“Let me take a look,” she said, her smile coldly professionally now.
He drummed his fingers on the counter. While he stood alone at front desk, the bar across from the lobby was packed with half-drunk patrons. Teag kept his back to them, willing the receptionist to hurry.
She returned holding a manilla envelope, his name on the front in blocky letters. When he took it from her hands, Teag knew there was more than paper inside. He mumbled his thanks and disappeared back into the stairwell.
With shaking hands, he unsealed the envelope to find a fully charged phone. A red dot indicated a message awaited him. Squeezing his eyes shut and leaning against the cold, concrete wall, he played it.
“Mr. Tate, I have something that belongs to you,” a heavily accented, yet utterly emotionless voice said. “I do not want her. I want you, and I am willing to make a trade. But, if you notify the police, or the FBI, or anyone from your security team, things will not end well. I will kill your sister and mail pieces of her to your mother. Then I will kill your pretty girlfriend and pick off the rest of your friends from TSI one by one, before finally putting a bullet in your head.”
Bile rose in the back of Teag’s throat and a cold sweat trickled down his back. Ivanovich had been two steps ahead of them at every turn. The man was a professional killer who’d evaded law enforcement—hell, the CIA—for years. Teag had no doubt he’d fulfill his promise.
“But we can avoid this. Your sister has not seen my face, nor do I wish to waste time on gratuitous violence. I want only you.”
Teag had seen Ivanovich’s face. He was the only person who could positively identify one of the world’s most dangerous assassins. He was a loose end, a liability, someone who could end Ivanovich’s reign of terror if the man were ever caught.
Teag hung his head. He was tired of running. This had to end, but he wouldn’t sacrifice his sister or any of the TSI operatives. He wouldn’t sacrifice Maria.
“Call the saved number and I will tell you where to go.”
The message ended and Teag stared at the phone like it was a snake about to bite him. Then, steeling himself for whatever awaited him, he shoved the phone in his pocket, jogged down the stairs, and pushed open the door to the parking garage.
