Chapter Fourteen
Danny reclined back in his corner chair, no swiveling necessary, as Jamie put on an award-winning performance behind the desk. By now, he should have cracked Steele’s encryption and completed the file transfer, but he’d slowed the process to a crawl. He typed slower than Danny thought possible. He cursed the failsafe he himself had triggered from the bridge. He sent Sonja’s goons on wild goose chases to disconnect this wire or that while he downloaded a decryption-something-or-other he needed, a ruse to text Mel and Aidan for an update on the hostage evac. Because while Jamie delayed the hack, the trigger clock on the bomb wasn’t slowing. Five minutes, read the countdown on Sonja’s phone screen. Two minutes, read the text from Mel on the computer screen.
Jamie closed the text window, as Sonja reentered the room. “How much longer?” she asked.
A few keystrokes and the flash drive plugged into the computer lit up. “Copying now,” Jamie said.
Danny wondered if it was Steele or something else Jamie was transferring onto the flash drive. Sonja must have wondered too. She stepped toward them, like she was going to check, but halted when her radio buzzed with distress calls. While she met Paul at the door, Jamie lifted his chin in a “come here” gesture. Danny rose and strode over to his side, eavesdropping as he went.
“Feds are converging on the upper deck,” Paul said. “And they’re hauling up a manual gangway to evacuate the passengers.”
“Hold them off,” Sonja ordered. “We’ve almost got what we need.”
As they talked logistics, Jamie’s fingers began to move faster, but lighter, so as to not draw attention as they flew across the keyboard. Danny looked down, then at the screen, and realized the words on the screen were for him.
A plan to take out Sonja and Paul, and Jamie was trusting him to kick it off. Pride swelled, as well as brotherly affection. Danny laid a hand on his shoulder in acknowledgment, and to balance himself as he lifted his leg behind the desk, allowing Jamie to withdraw the pistol from the makeshift holster on Danny’s calf. Setting it in his lap, under the desk, Jamie returned his attention to the computer, deleted the words on the screen and withdrew the flash drive. “We’re done here,” he said, interrupting Sonja and Paul.
Taking the drive from Jamie, Danny circled the desk and met Sonja in the middle of the room. She reached for the jump stick, and Danny yanked it back, out of her reach. “Don’t stand in the way of my friends and family getting off this ship.”
“Chopper’s thirty seconds out,” Paul said.
“I’m sorry, Danny,” Sonja said. “But not until I get myself and my people clear.”
Until that moment, Danny had kept his cool. Had pretended to be the relaxed Danny of old while shit swirled around him. Take orders and do what’s needed to survive. But the rage he’d banked at this whole situation—at his friends and family held hostage, at a competitor trying to steal their hard work, at the prospect of his mother’s ship being blown to bits, at not being able to enjoy a fucking night with his wife—finally boiled over.
And he used it to his advantage.
“You’re sorry?” He leaned toward Sonja. “My dad’s life’s work, the one thing my mother ever wanted, our friends and colleagues scared and threatened. People you know, Sonja! And you’re sorry?”
Paul shifted closer, but Sonja stretched an arm back, holding him off.
Just as Danny wanted.
“Daniel—”
“No!” he barked, hand in her face. “That name belongs to someone else now.”
Her eyes flashed—with hurt, with jealousy or with surprise at seeing him so angry—Danny didn’t know, nor did he care. He had Sonja right where he wanted her. He’d been trained for this situation, by the best.
Eight Months Ago
They circled each other on the padded mats that were spread across the yacht’s deck. The wave swells and blistering overhead sun added more difficulty to an already grueling daily routine. Against medical advice, Mel had chewed up and spit out Danny’s ideas for a relaxing vacation with some light post-gunshot-wound rehab. He’d planned for yoga, swimming and escalating strength conditioning, not hand-to-hand combat sessions with a fucking black belt.
“Again,” she barked, slapping the mats with her palms.
God, how he’d come to hate that one word.
Hands braced on his knees, sweat dripped off his forehead onto the mat as he struggled to catch his breath. “Why?” he panted.
“Why what?” she replied, sounding barely winded.
“Why are you pushing yourself like this? You’re out of the Bureau. There’s no reason.”
Her face fell and she quickly turned away, hiding the disappointment that was still too fresh. She grabbed two water bottles out of the cooler and tossed one to Danny. “You think the bad guys are gone?” she asked.
He caught the bottle, took a long swallow, then collapsed, ass hitting the mat and legs splaying out in front of him. He lay back, cool bottle pressed to his forehead. “The ones who tried to kill us are.”
“More will come.”
He whipped back up, meeting her gaze head on. “What aren’t you telling me?”
She raised her palms, dark eyes beseeching. “There’s nothing else. I promise.”
“How can I believe you?” He’d thought he’d moved past this, during those hours by her hospital bed, but at the slightest hint she was keeping something from him again, the remembered betrayal had roared back.
She stepped toward him, hesitated, then lowered herself to her knees. Grasping his hands, she set the water bottle aside and held both his hands in hers. “You have no reason to believe me, ever again. I betrayed you, betrayed what we were building, betrayed your family.” She leaned forward, head pressed to their joined hands. “I’m sorry, Daniel, more than you’ll ever know. I made a promise to my brother I was trying to keep, but I should have put my loved ones who were still alive first.”
He withdrew a hand and tangled it in her new, short curls. “I can’t say if it were one of my siblings, that I would have done differently.”
Righting herself, she kept hold of his hands, squeezing. “That still doesn’t make it right. All we could have lost... I’m so sorry.”
He nodded and closed his hands around hers. “If we’re going to get back to where we were, where we were going, I need to be able to trust you again.”
“You can.”
“Then tell me, what do you mean by more will come.”
“It’s nothing specific, nothing connected to Gabe or the case. I just meant that you and your family are high profile. And if I take the job I’m considering, I’ll be gone a lot more. I need to know you’re safe when I’m gone, and if you ever get into a hostage situation again, that you can get yourself out of it.”
“Which job is that?” Other than officially retiring from the Bureau, there’d been no job talk for the past two months.
“Contract work, my own gig. Bounties and the like.”
“And the like?” That sounded like—
“Don’t ask.”
Yep, better not ask, then.
She might not have talked career moves, but she’d clearly been thinking about it. And so had others in her orbit. “You’ve already got clients, then?”
“There’s been some interest.”
In a job that would take her away more and put her in the line of fire. “I have a better idea. Come work for me at TE.”
She sat back on her haunches, head tilted. “As what?”
“My chief of security. The current one is retiring.”
“Danny, that’ll look like nepotism.”
He knew she had to say it but still... “Everyone in the family except Aidan works for the company.”
She chuckled. “Touché.”
“If you were willing to protect your family like that, then come protect mine, and my family’s legacy.”
She bit her lower lip, seeming to consider, never making a spontaneous decision. “How about a compromise?” she said after another moment. “What if I do both?”
“I think we can make that work.” He rose and held out his hand. She slipped her hand in his and he pulled her up and into his arms. “Now that that’s settled, how about we go below deck and celebrate our new future.”
She looked up again, a gleam in her eye, the same devious, seductive one she’d had that morning when they’d made love in the... “Shower, again?”
Present
He’d learned to love the word again, and to trust again, and putting his faith in Mel meant he had faith in himself now. He had the skills to hold his own.
A click sounded behind him, the hammer cocking on a gun.
Go time.
Again.
With his raised hand, he crossed his body and clutched the shoulder of Sonja’s firing arm. Using his other hand, he grabbed the wrist at the other end of her arm, exerted pressure in the exact spot Mel had shown him, and Sonja’s hand popped open, dropping the gun.
Keeping hold of her wrist, Danny used his height and mass, and the hand on Sonja’s shoulder, to swing her around and yank her arm up. Hand sliding around, he circled her front and yanked her back against his chest, the two of them facing Paul, Sonja as a shield.
Paul was only just lifting his gun.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Already standing, Jamie had his pistol leveled on Paul. “Drop the gun.”
Paul’s gaze bounced from Jamie to Sonja and back, gun arm half raised.
Danny clenched Sonja tighter. “Tell him to stand down.”
“Drop the gun, Paul.”
“Over there.” Danny jutted his chin toward where he’d kicked Sonja’s.
“Any chance you got cuffs in here?” Jamie asked.
“Right-hand drawer.” He’d put them there earlier in the evening, anticipating some post-party fun with his wife.
Gun trained on Paul, Jamie retrieved two pairs of cuffs and crossed the room, handcuffing the merc to the railing that ran the border of the room.
Danny shuffled Sonja over, grabbing her radio before handing her to Jamie, who cuffed her next to Paul. “Tell your men to let the passengers off,” Danny demanded.
“Not unless you let us off too,” she tried to bargain.
He wanted to roar “Tell them!” but Sonja was already halfway to defeated, and no matter what he’d learned from Mel, Aidan and Jamie, Danny wasn’t the same kind of badass as the rest of them. He crouched in front of Sonja, hand on her face. “You don’t want to kill anyone, Sonja. Tell them to stand down, please, so Jamie and I can try and deactivate your bomb.”
She swallowed hard and nodded. He pressed the TALK button on the radio and, voice gravelly, she gave the stand-down order.
“Two minutes, thirty seconds,” Jamie said.
“Thank you,” Danny said to Sonja. He stood and turned to Jamie, pulling out his lock-pick set. “Time to go unlock some doors.”