Killian
I’m a lot pissed and puzzled about how Fionnella bypassed my security without triggering any of my alarms. “We don’t work for you. Hell, we don’t even know who you really are.”
Her gaze shifts from Faith, where it’s rested for far too long, back to me. “You never worked for me, handsome. That’s what made us so great together.”
Faith’s fingers dig into mine, and I know she’s getting pissed with Fionnella. We have enough unknown quantities to deal with without this strange woman dropping into our lives now. Coupled with the ridiculous ease with which Fionnella’s breached my security and doesn’t seem sorry about it, Faith looks like she’s seconds from tackling the older woman to the ground. I would probably let her, if only this weren’t another shitty moment sent to fuck up my aim to lock down the woman I love.
“Are you going to tell us who you are?” I snap.
Her gaze shifts back to Faith and stays, and it’s my turn to experience the charged tension. “She knows who I am, don’t you, B?” Fionnella says.
Faith goes rigid.
Enough of this shit. “That’s not her name, and you know it. And yes, she’s told me about your little visit to the club,” I tell her.
Fionnella shrugs. “That was a happy coincidence. My call to her before that, however, wasn’t. If she hadn’t thrown her hissy fit then, maybe we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“Watch it,” I snarl.
For some reason, that makes her smile wider. Her gaze drops to our clasped hands, and she nods in satisfaction. “You’re still nuts for each other. That’s great. Although it took you a while to wise up, didn’t it?” Again she redirects her question to Faith. The undercurrents whizzing through the room fry a few more of my nerves.
“Just tell us why you’re here,” Faith’s voice is whisper-thin and edgy.
“Paul Galveston.”
We both tense. “What about him?”
“You know he’s reared his ugly little head up from the swamps. So do we.”
“We? So you work with us at the Fallhurst Institute?” I ask.
She smiles at me. “Does it matter who I work for?” Before I can answer, she continues. “In case you’re wondering why, it’s because you found her.” She nods at Faith.
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s been waiting for you to lead him to Faith. I tried to warn her three weeks ago after her little mishap with the camera on East Fifty-Third Street.”
I spring upright, unable to sit still with the knowledge that a shit storm is headed our way. “Jesus, how the hell did you know about that?”
“Does it matter? I know. He knows. We need to deal with it.”
“Do you know he’s here, in New York City?”
Fionnella nods. “Yes. Well, he was a few hours ago.”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means he may not be in New York any longer. Whatever he came here for may be done.”
“Enough with this Murder She Wrote crap. If you know something, tell us,” Faith snaps.
She smiles at Faith. “All in good time, dear,” she replies in a perfect imitation of Jessica Fletcher.
“So Galveston may or may not still be in New York City. Are they planning something? What about Raj Phillips?” I demand.
Her brown eyes gleam before she waves my questions away. “Raj has been dealt with. He’s no longer a problem. Galveston is our main concern now.”
“Why does he want…Why is he looking for me?” Faith asks.
Fionnella’s gaze is almost sympathetic. Except the steely directness is hard to ignore. “The guy you killed in Cairo was a sleazebag. But he also had an unholy trinity thing going for him that made him a key player in Galveston’s operation.”
“Who was he?” Faith asks.
“He was the shipping minister. He was also Galveston’s distant uncle through his mother’s side—don’t ask me to give you a genealogy lesson. And he was a minor royal of some sort. Word got out about where and how he died. Caused all sorts of ripples in all sorts of circles.”
I scrub my fingers through my hair. “Shit.”
She nods at me. “Yes, they weren’t very happy with his nephew Paul. But because of his connections, he managed to avoid a trial and imprisonment, but they weren’t about to let him go scot-free. Galveston’s been off the radar because he spent a little time under ‘house arrest.’” She makes quote signs with a grin. “They tried to release him last year, but we pulled a few strings to extend his stay until his father stepped in with a bigger sweetener than we could afford.”
“So the senator is still involved, despite knowing what went down in Cairo?” I ask.
“Yes, up to his eyeballs.”
“Then why haven’t you arrested him? Why didn’t you arrest Galveston the moment he stepped foot back in the US?” I demand.
“It’s not that simple. If it were, I wouldn’t be here.”
“Bullshit. He tried to kill her.” I nod at Faith. “Have him charged with attempted murder.”
Fionnella’s smile dims, and she all but rolls her eyes at me. “Don’t be naïve. Exposure like that won’t be sanctioned by anyone at the agency.”
“Ex-agency. I…we don’t work for them anymore,” I tell her.
Fionnella raises her eyebrows. “Right. I heard the rumors to that effect, but let’s leave that for now. Faith, you can’t just walk away. There are protocols you need to go through. The uncoupling doesn’t happen just because you wish it.”
“I’ll sign whatever they want. I was there for less than five minutes anyway,” Faith says.
Fionnella remains silent for a long moment. “But you made an impact, in a good way. Before Cairo anyway. Are you sure you—?”
“She’s sure. We’re both sure,” I interject. “Can we get back to Galveston?”
“Sure. You want to know why we can’t just scoop him up? Because we still don’t know the intricacies of his operation. And we’ve confirmed that it’s still going on. It’s a much smaller operation than it was before now that Black and Phillips are out of the way, and thanks to what you did in Cairo. But it’s only a matter of time before Galveston expands again. Especially now that we’re sure that he has—” She pauses as the buzzer on the door sounds, and stares at me with a question in her eyes.
My apprehension ramps higher. Mitch or Linc wouldn’t interrupt unless it was important. As in life-or-death important.
Faith jerks forward in her seat too. “Killian…”
I lean down and brush a kiss on her forehead. “It’s okay, baby.”
Fionnella’s gaze shifts from Faith to me. “For what it’s worth, your security is impressive. Whoever’s out there will have a tough time entering if they’re not on your approved list.”
Faith glares at her. “Everything’s a laugh riot to you, isn’t it?”
Fionnella smiles serenely back. “No, not everything,” she murmurs softly.
I puzzle over the odd note in her voice as I walk out of the living room and head to the door. I push a button to display the camera’s view outside. It’s Linc.
I hit the intercom. “Everything okay?”
He holds up a small envelope to the camera. “This was just delivered for you downstairs. We’ve checked it out. It’s a thumb drive with no incendiary components. But it’s encrypted, so we don’t know what’s on it.”
“You should take that.”
I jerk around at Fionnella’s voice.
She and Faith are standing six feet away from me. Christ, I wish I weren’t so averse to strangling annoying women. “Not until you get Faith the hell away from here,” I snarl at her. Although my instincts tell me she’s on our side, I get the feeling she’s more on Faith’s side than mine.
More fucking secrets.
“You’re right. My bad. Come on, B.”
She’s yanking my chain with that B thing. I know it. All the same, my teeth grind as I wait for them to return to the living room, and then I go through the security measures to open the front door.
Linc looks a little concerned as he hands me the envelope. “Is everything all right, sir?”
“I have no fucking idea. Do me a favor and get my pilots on standby, would you? And tell Mitch we might need to leave at short notice. Oh, and get the guys outside to be extra-vigilant.”
He nods briskly and hurries away.
I turn over the plain white envelope in my hand. Then I slide my finger under the flap and upend it. A plain black thumb drive falls into my hand. It looks innocuous enough, but anonymous deliveries never bode well. Not in movies and most definitely not in real life.
I examine it closely as I walk back into the living room. The women are standing at the window, speaking in low voices. Faith stops and tenses as I approach. Fionnella’s gaze rests on her for another moment before she sends me that Sunday-school-teacher smile that makes my gut clench.
That is until she sees what’s in my hand. For the first time, her affable expression drops, and she looks a cross between angry and resigned. “Oh, dammit.”
“What?”
“That looks familiar.”
I examine the stick closer. “Probably because it’s a cheap, seven-dollar thumb drive. You can get them anywhere.”
“But not what’s on it. Unless I’m hugely mistaken, and I really hope I am.” But she doesn’t sound hopeful.
I look over at Faith, and her face is as haggard as I feel. The vise around my chest tightens. I don’t regret chasing her down but, Jesus, if all this shit is happening because of me…
“Well, we’re not going to find out just standing around,” Fionnella says. “I have a laptop—”
“So do I.”
She shakes her head. “Use mine.”
“Why?”
Her smile attempts a resurrection. “I have a feeling you’ll react a certain way once you see what’s on there. It’s better you don’t leave digital bread crumbs.”
“Fuck, do you ever just speak plainly?” My question emerges in a near growl.
“All the time. You just don’t want to hear me now because you’re pissed I broke through your precious security. And you feel a little threatened about my familiarity with your woman.”
My breath hisses out of me. “Jesus…”
“You wanted plain. Now you have it.” She nods at the drive in my hand. “We’re wasting time, son.”
“Give me your laptop,” I manage to say through gritted teeth.
She returns to the sofa and yanks open a large, tattered purse. The machine is compact, but even by my standards, it’s hugely impressive. She braces it on her arm, lifts the lid, and inputs strokes too fast for me to follow.
Faith walks toward me as I take the laptop and insert the drive. I wish there was a way to shield her from whatever’s coming. My gut tells me it won’t be pretty.
It’s not.
Fionnella curses under her breath as the picture of a bloodied face materializes on-screen. I look at Faith, and she’s deathly pale as she stares at the man.
“Who is he?” she asks.
The picture pans out to show the figure tied to a chair. Nothing about the plain, dark room looks familiar. But my skin crawls.
“That’s one of Fallhurst’s agents,” Fionnella responds. “He was supposed to be on assignment in Boise, Idaho. He didn’t show up. That was five days ago.”
Faith shudders against me. “Oh God.”
I put my arm around her shoulders. As she curls into me, the dots connect with a blinding flash.
My gaze locks on Fionnella. “Wait. This is how you found out about Ted and Shane, isn’t it?”
She nods. “Yes. Two agents killed in two different countries are bad enough. A third one so soon after the first two—”
“You have a mole,” Faith blurts.
Her lips purse, and she nods again. “That’s why we can’t just scoop up Galveston and toss him in the darkest black site hole. Not until we find out who’s feeding him the information.”
“Because whoever it is will just continue…”
We’re absorbing the discovery when the sound of a gunshot rips through the speakers. Our gazes return to the screen as the agent falls off the chair and lands in a dead heap on the ground.
“No!” Faith’s voice is a ragged sob.
“Shit,” Fionnella mutters.
I bite back a curse and keep my gaze fixed on the screen, looking for any clues that might help us down the line. But nothing happens. The camera stays on the dead body as a voice that sounds like Galveston’s, and yet not, filters through.
“That’s three for three, Knight.”
My puzzled gaze darts to Fionnella.
“Black, Phillips, his uncle,” she elaborates.
My breath punches out of me. Fuck. But a moment later, a tiny wave of guilty relief goes through me. If he considers us even, then Faith is safe.
His next words chew through my relief like acid on flesh. “For my part, since I’m still alive, despite your girlfriend trying to make it otherwise, I’m prepared to negotiate. Fifty million dollars in exchange for letting bygones be bygones and leaving your precious Faith alone.”
Everything inside me freezes, even while I calculate how quickly I can make that happen.
Fifty million dollars for Faith. The woman I love. I’d pay it a hundred times over.
Fionnella hits pause on the recording and shakes her head. “Don’t even think about it, son.”
My teeth grind. “Well, luckily it’s not up to you.”
“Yes. It is.”
I laugh. “How the hell do you figure that?”
“You really don’t want to find out.”
I crack a smile of my own. The gall of this woman. She’s half my size, and I can break her into little pieces without losing too much sleep. “Try me. Really,” I encourage softly.
Her eyes harden to frozen lakes. “Have you told her you didn’t just happen to stop by to visit brother dearest that day five years ago? Does she know you went there to investigate him?”