“It’s been two hours since the lights went out and we lost our feed,” Malcolm reiterated. “We need eyes inside.”
“We have eyes inside. Marie.”
Stacy had pulled up on the narrow side street and parked. Hawk was headed to town, following on Dimitru’s heels. Malcolm wasn’t leaving Marie without backup. He would stay. There might be a bigger purpose to this assignment, and he understood cooperation was needed, but he also understood Hawk Elite Security took care of their own.
The FBI wouldn’t give a shit about the thief who had fucked up their plans to take down Dimitru. He didn’t trust them to have her back.
With the systems down, he was completely in the dark.
On the other hand, so was Dimitru. There was comfort in the knowledge.
He wished he’d told her how to mess with the computers. A quick trip to the computer hub and she could give him access. He was working from his end, but the problem was they weren’t blocking him at all. They were not using any system.
Dogs and guards. Totally old school.
He’d seen the dogs right away. One guard doing a walk-through, another doing the exterior check. Some of the windows held a glow, the kind a hospital would have when generators were turned on.
Malcolm focused on those and kept at his efforts on the computer to see if he could find an open link to the security room. But it wasn’t long before he was merely clicking between windows, hoping. “Staring at it won’t make the power come back up, asshole.”
“Talking to yourself?” Stacy laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Yeah.”
“I do that too.” She paused. “You okay?”
He wanted to blow off the fear, but it gripped him. “I don’t know.”
“Marie’s different for you.”
Malcolm didn’t play dumb. He knew she was talking about his feelings for her. “Maybe.”
“Have you told her what happened with Heather?”
He’d kept it locked up for so long that he’d forgotten Stacy was one of the few who knew what had happened. He shook his head. “We aren’t. It’s not. I don’t know what we are.”
Stacy tilted her head.
“Yet,” he added.
“The waiting is the worst.”
Malcolm nodded. “She could be tied up in his creepy mansion.”
“She’s not.”
He couldn’t figure out why everyone was so confident. He’d never doubted Marie had the ability. But sometimes a bullet came out of nowhere. Rubbing a hand over his scar, he squeezed his eyes shut and shoved aside the worry.
“Hawk and I are ready to take off,” Stacy said.
Her other half interrupted by opening the door to the back of the van. Hawk was without his dark glasses, which meant he had some vision. And he proved it by walking directly to Stacy and running his hands through her hair. “Anything from John yet?” he asked Malcolm.
“Not yet.”
“Soon, then.” Hawk took Stacy’s hand. “Marie?”
“No,” Malcolm answered. “It’s been two hours since we had ears in the estate.”
Hawk’s phone rang and he answered, putting it on speaker. “We’re here, John.”
“Nothing happened, Hawk. Graham is pissed. He thinks Marie’s presence added a variable and scared Dimitru off. He came to town and had dinner. Nothing else.” Motors ran in the background of the call, and Malcolm was sure he could hear the wind whipping by the speaker of John’s phone. “Everything hinged on the intel Graham gathered about the Indonesian link. But the deal didn’t go down. The meet never even happened.”
His voice crackled then came back strong. “Looks like we wait. Looks like Marie’s going to need to pull out all the stops. If there are women being brought in, it isn’t through the container—”
The call dropped.
“I’m going back out,” Malcolm said, before anyone had moved.
I’ll see you soon. She’d said it herself. He wasn’t going to sit by anymore. Support position or not, he needed to be in the field. The gut feeling about Dimitru hadn’t changed. He was playing all of them.
“We wait,” Hawk said. “For Marie.” He put a hand on Malcolm’s shoulder. “She is ours. If we have to sit outside the estate for hours on end, we’re ready. We’ll be there when she needs us. Until then, we wait for her to contact us. That’s the job. She can do it. Give her some more time. You would for anyone else on the team, right?”
Fucking right.
“Maybe you should go take a break,” Hawk said, pressing his fingers into his eye sockets.
“I’m fine,” Malcolm replied. He wanted to go somewhere, but he hadn’t been invited.
Stacy gave him one last squeeze on his shoulder before she and Hawk left. Malcolm looked around for something to pound.
“Don’t even think about it,” Craig said, eyeing him suspiciously.
Malcolm sat back down and opened his laptop again. He turned on the active map and GPS system and zoomed in on Dimitru’s property. She was in there, alone. No, worse. Not alone at all.
He watched the red dot move on the screen, the ache inside easing at the sign she was alive. The super-secret device he’d stuck between the sidewall and tongue of her boot before she’d left—his last resort. His perfect hope. He’d been able to track her even as she’d moved from level to level.
Unfortunately, Hawk was right.
It really was time for him to quit his bitching.
He knew she felt guilty, and this was her way of making up for it.
Yet, as far as he was concerned, her feelings were now misplaced.
***
Voices broke through her subconscious and roused her from the shallow sleep of imprisonment. Imprisoned again—voluntarily again. She slid out of the twin bed and pulled a sweatshirt over her head. Thankfully, some more digging had led to finding a few more casual pieces of clothing.
At the door to her room, she leaned in and set her ear against the flat surface. Gregory had come to Dimitru’s room and they spoke in short, quiet tones. Then they walked away, down the hall. But not the way she expected, toward the stairs. Instead, they headed north to what she’d assumed was a dead end.
When it had been quiet outside her door for more than a minute, she pulled it slowly open.
The hall was empty.
Gain trust.
Acquire information.
And good Lord, save those women. Do something for the good of mankind, Marie.
She crept down the hall in the direction she’d heard the men go. When she reached the window facing north, she turned back around. “What in the hell?”
There was nothing there. She turned another circle, looking up this time, but still found nothing. “Come on now,” she whispered, as her gaze was pulled out the window to a small delivery truck pulling around on the driveway to the back of the house. She pressed her face to the window and heard a soft puff of air and a small click to her left.
The wall next to her had moved. She hadn’t seen it, but she would bet her life on it.
She cupped her ear against the surface and tapped lightly against the drywall. Hollow. Placing her hands flat, she pushed. But the wall didn’t budge. Frustration ground through her. There had to be a way.
She went back to the window. Both men stood next to a truck, which had backed up to the loading dock. Dimitru stood back when a small man…
Marie squinted, focusing through the dark to the lit area.
Not a small man but a woman. Very short, small, possibly Asian descent. Long black hair. Despite her diminutive stature, she was in charge. She looked to be making demands of Dimitru and Gregory.
And a third guy. Lumberjack type, bigger and wearing a flannel shirt. Untied boots and a cigarette hanging from his hand. Smoke wafted up amidst the small group. Finally, after the talk was over, the woman nodded to the big guy and he bent over to open the back of the delivery truck.
Marie held her breath. Could this be it? The FBI expected a container shipment from overseas. They were watching the docks in Portland, watching the high seas off the coast, and it looked like Dimitru’s delivery had already made it inland.
Lumberjack reached in and pulled out a box.
Dimitru opened the top flap and pulled out a knife. He cut into the box.
“Holy—” Marie said as a tuft of white powder drew her attention to Dimitru’s hand. He stuck his pinky in and then snorted a small amount. She’d seen enough television. Drugs. Heroin. She went to back up, but before she lost sight of the group, Gregory pulled a gun on the woman.
Marie sucked in a breath.
Gregory pulled the trigger, shooting the woman in the chest. Marie squeaked, her heart raced, and she froze to the spot as the woman crumpled to the ground. “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.”
She scrambled back to her room and shut the door. She breathed, breathed again. “Oh, man. Oh, man.”
This wasn’t what they expected at all. Dimitru’s get-rich idea wasn’t women.
It was drugs.
A truck full of heroin.
And murder.
She wanted to run. So badly, she wanted to escape. But she still had her uncle. And what about the women? The FBI and Agent Graham couldn’t have been wrong.
“Think!” she said, and then immediately knew she needed to talk to Uncle Bert.
Quietly, she crept into his room.
He eyed her, displeasure on his face. “What are you doing here?”
Marie ignored him and knelt at his bedside. “We have to get you out of here, Uncle Bert,” she whispered.
In an unexpected show of affection, he ran his hand through her hair. “Say the word,” he said, then began coughing.
She couldn’t move him, not yet. He was too weak. She shoved the fear aside and smiled. “Right.”
He grinned at her. “Don’t mind me. I actually do feel a lot better. Having you here—” He coughed again, and she held her breath as he struggled. “Even though it brings me comfort, you must go, Marie.”
“Did they search you when you got here?” she said, getting to the point, not knowing how much time she had before Dimitru returned. “Do you have your cell phone?”
Uncle Bert’s eyes brightened. “Ah, my mischievous little brat.” He chuckled and reached between the mattress and the wall with his pale shaking hand and pulled out his small flip phone. “He took the smart one. I had this one in my shoe.”
“Your shoe? What—” She gripped the phone. “How?”
“Got good arches.” He whispered, “Be careful, my dear.”
“I’m always careful. You know.” With her back turned to the door, she quickly opened the phone and went to the settings to turn off the sound so the stupid thing didn’t beep every time she pushed a button, which was going to be a frickin’ lot with the numeric keypad.
“Yeah, but your heart’s in this now, and that changes things.”
He had a point, and she had no choice. “Look, Uncle Bert. No matter what happens, I love you. Okay?”
“Don’t talk that way. Everything’s going to be fine.”
She hesitated, not wanting to worry him more than necessary. “Be very careful. Dimitru is into a lot more than we thought. It’s bad. He shot you, would have killed you. He still could.” The panic built as she spoke, so she slowed down. “I’m going to do whatever necessary to get you out of here tomorrow. You hear me? No matter what you hear, how crazy it sounds, I need you to follow my lead, okay?”
“Sure thing, pretty girl.” His eyes were fluttering closed.
“Uncle Bert,” she said, needing him awake. “Tomorrow I leave to prove myself to Dimitru.” She paused in her typing. “I must contact your old Romanian cronies. Dimitru tasked me with acquiring a piece from the local art collection. He and I are going after Lot 26.”
Uncle Bert opened his eyes, sucked in a breath, and gripped her hand. “No. Impossible. They will be heavily guarded. It would take an entire team of Bălans to acquire such a treasure.”
She kissed his cheek. “The goal is to get out of here way before that happens, uncle. I’m working on it.”
“And your team?”
Her heart pounded. “My team. Yes. Hawk’s got my back.”
“Malcolm?”
She shrugged. “Reluctantly, yes.”
“He wants an honest wife this time. You will have to change your ways, Marie.”
Marie eased off her knees and scooted up onto the end of the bed to put her back against the wall. “He’s changing my ways, whether I like it or not.”
“You like it, though. You never were one to steal something for no reason.”
Shrugging, she thought of the armband. “Tell me about your buddies. What’s changed in the last fifteen years. Any surprises?”
“I haven’t attended any of the meetings in some time.” He sighed. “But you will be safe with them. Look for Bruce. You remember?”
Marie nodded as she finally finished her text, the anticipation of getting a message back from Malcolm making her feel like a ridiculous young girl.
Tomorrow. 1000.Meet.
“I remember. Big guy with the beard?” She finished off the text by adding the cross streets.
Uncle Bert patted her hand, and he leaned back and closed his eyes. “You’ll do fine. Watch out for Dimitru.”
The sharp knock on the door had her heart pounding, and all those funny ideas about magic cropping up in her subconscious. Geez. It was like he knew Dimitru had been coming. She quickly slipped the phone back behind the mattress and turned as the door opened. Standing, she came face to face with Dimitru.
Dimitru scowled. “You shouldn’t be wandering around at night.”
She smiled—it was forced—and looked down at her uncle. He’d closed his eyes, and for an instant, her heart stopped. Was he pretending? Had he fallen asleep? Was he dead? “I was only checking on him,” she whispered. “I’m going back.” She stopped in front of Dimitru. “How did things go tonight? Everything okay?”
“Fine. Had an unexpected glitch. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I don’t doubt it,” she said, patting him on his arm. “Uncle Bert’s doing well. Thank you for bringing the doctor in.” She sidled past him. “I’m very tired, and I have a long day ahead of me, but a good one. Been a long time since I went out for a true acquisition.”
Dimitru lifted a brow.
“Oh, the armband doesn’t count,” she said. “We’re practically family. It’s like stealing my brother’s car—more like borrowing, right?” She shrugged.
“Don’t think of us as siblings, Marie.”
“Right.” She swallowed when his hand came up around her throat again. “I mean in theory.”
He seemed happy about her agreeableness, so much so that he leaned in and murmured against her lips, “Perhaps we will make a good pair after all.”
He firmly kissed her and didn’t seem to mind that she couldn’t bother to force any enthusiasm.
“Affection will grow,” he said, answering her thoughts.
“I better go,” she said, waving a hand down the hall. “See you for breakfast? I can run the plans for the heist by you.”
He nodded.
“Okay,” she said breathlessly as she made her escape.
Tomorrow, she needed to talk to Malcolm. She needed to report the dead woman. But mostly, she needed to get her uncle out of here without raising any red flags. It was obvious Dimitru had no qualms about getting rid of the competition.
As far as he was concerned, she would have to be irreplaceable.
She had no other option.