CHAPTER TWO
Sam kept his gaze locked on the back of Lucky’s head and knew the last thing she wanted was a confrontation. Which is exactly what she was going to get the moment his meeting concluded with the director.
Listening with only one ear to Simon drone on about protocol and rules, he let his mind run over how he was going to kill the son of a bitch who just kissed the hell out of Lucky.
Was that the man who’d been preventing her from returning his calls? Studying the pair, he saw they were dressed similarly and had a familiarity that made him want to punch something.
Tuning into his boss’s yammering about his free-wheeling style for a second, he realized he had another five minutes on the speech before it was going to wind down and they could move on to the real problem.
And what a problem it was.
Fucking Bratva. They had wiped out Belikov and his group only two months ago, and another one had already popped up. They were like rats, no matter how many you got rid of, there were more climbing out of the sewers. And this time, they brought a deadlier version of heroin to the streets.
Seeing her long legs made him forget about the Russian mafia momentarily as he let out a silent sigh. Lucky Santorini was the one that got away, and the truth was, he could blame no one but himself for the way things had turned out between them.
Or more accurately, didn’t turn out.
He’d screwed the thing up from one end to the other, and he really couldn’t say with any certainty if he had a prayer of a second chance.
When they’d worked together back in the spring, he’d poked at her as he did with any colleague, and the result was a pissed off woman, not a charmed one, and truthfully, he’d done more than sling the usual good-natured ribbing. He’d tried to one-up her at every turn, and the reason was so mortifying he’d had a hell of a time admitting it to himself.
Cringing inwardly, he knew in no uncertain terms he was the architect of his unhappiness, and it was a result of nothing more than insecurity. Something that had never plagued him up until a couple of years ago.
He abhorred it and did everything in his power to never let it fester too long so it could take root, but with Lucky, he’d completely failed. Not only was she the smartest person he’d ever met, but she was also incredibly beautiful and fearless. Absolutely, balls to the walls, unwaveringly fearless. And it pissed him off because he wasn’t anymore.
The last op he’d been on with HRT had taken it from him, along with the lower half of his left leg, and he had no idea when the hell he was going to get it back. That was over three years ago, and he knew that if it didn’t happen soon, it probably wouldn’t.
Not that most people would guess…hell, no, he was still as cocky and confident as any former Tier One guy out there. He just didn’t feel it in his gut like he used to; it was more of an external bravado thing and it made him feel like a fake. And he hated fakes, always had, always would.
So, when Lucky came along with her beautiful navy-blue eyes and enormous intellect, he panicked because deep in his gut he knew she’d figure him out and see through his façade, and that’s the last thing he wanted to occur.
Except now that he’d had some time to think about it, he realized it’s exactly what needed to happen if he wanted to move forward with his life and career. Hiding, ignoring, or generally denying his limitations wasn’t the answer, and the sooner he fully accepted that he was never going back to Delta or HRT to kick ass, the better.
If he could find a way to be okay with it in his gut and not just his mind that his current career was enough, he’d then be truly healed.
“Are you listening, Barton?”
“Yes, Simon, absolutely and I agree with everything you’ve just said and will do my best to follow all the rules and regulations.”
Scraping his hand over his face, Director Harris let out a long breath. “I know you tuned me out after the first three minutes and kept your eyes glued to the hot blonde on the other side of the room. If you’re going to lie to my face, I expect you at least to put some effort into it.”
“That hot-blonde is Lucky Santorini.”
Turning around, the director gazed at Lucky and let out a laugh. “I didn’t picture the Director of Intelligence from SAI to be quite so beautiful…and young. How the hell old is she?”
“Thirty, Simon, and your last statement pretty much makes your whole speech pointless.” No one should be admiring Lucky’s looks except him and certainly not the director, of all people. “Commenting on a woman’s looks is unacceptable, and you know it.”
When Simon raised an eyebrow and didn’t respond, Sam knew he had taken it as far as he could without putting his job in jeopardy. “Are we going to talk about the new crew that’s shown up or is there more hand-slapping that needs to be done?”
“I’ve given you my semi-annual speech, so we can move on.”
“Thank God because I’d like to focus on the shit that is showing up in the city and figure out a way to take down the group that’s responsible.”
“Do you think it’s the Russians or the Albanians that are responsible for the deadly heroin that’s flowing through the dealers’ hands?”
“I’m guessing it’s the Russians because Yolkin’s new crew is the only thing that’s changed in the last year. The players in the Albanian Fis are the same, and the Italian mobs don’t deal in heroin.”
“You said something the other day about Vazov having a connection with Yolkin; do you have any intel to back it up or is it just a hunch?”
“All I have right now is some unrefined data that suggests the two have been in communication almost daily for the last two months. Until I get the authorization to dig further, I won’t know what that communication means.”
“Vazov lives in Brussels, rarely comes to the United States, and has always focused his attention on money laundering and human trafficking. So, him having a connection with Yolkin doesn’t make any sense.”
“Which is why I asked for the authorization to invest resources in finding out why. Maybe he saw Belikov go down back in June and recognized a vacuum that needed to be filled. He may be sponsoring the group and nothing more, but the raw intel suggests he’s involved in some way.”
“The chances of us getting our hands on one of the ten most wanted men are very small, but that doesn’t mean we’re not going to try.”
“Oh, we’re going to do a lot more than try, sir. Some fucking way, we’re going to succeed.” Sam watched the man who Lucky had kissed earlier stalk toward the exit and give him a smug smile as he passed. Fucker, Sam thought.
“Careful,” Simon said as the man passed. “Better have a strategy on how you’re going to get rid of the body before you put the plan into motion.”
Sam turned and let out a loud laugh and leaned forward. “Why do you bother giving me a lecture if you’re going to say shit like that?”
“I’d like you to cover my ass and tell my superiors that I’ve properly chastised you.” He gave a confident grin and then looked around the room with satisfaction. “I can say with all honesty that I delivered perhaps one of the best ass-chapping speeches on record. What I will leave out, though, is that you barely paid an ounce of attention.”
Sam shook his head and attempted to finish the meeting with some of his dignity and professional reputation intact. “My gut is telling me is that Anton Vazov has dipped his hand in Yolkin’s group, and I hope you’ll seriously consider the request I’ve submitted.”
“I’ll think about it and let you know in the next couple of days. I’ve got to weigh the resources of the office against the demands, and I need to evaluate where Yolkin and Vazov fit in.”
“If Vazov has made an alliance with Yolkin and it goes beyond money laundering and includes drugs, then I’m praying you give me the okay sooner as opposed to later.”
“Hell of a jump, Barton. I love the idea that we can take some the people down who are responsible for the shit that’s killing people, but that’s a lot of dots to connect, and I don’t think we’re close.”
“Yet,” Sam responded.
“Yet,” Simon repeated. “You know as well as I do that it takes years to build a case that will result in an indictment, and we have no reach inside the current group that’s operating in the city. It’s like a damn snake with a hundred heads, and we have no idea which one is controlling the operation.”
“What if we came at it from another angle? The old methods of infiltrating these organizations are not in keeping with the times, and we have to tip this shit on its head if we have any hope of getting ahead of the operators.”
“The FBI does not tip shit on its head, though I like where you’re heading with the creative thinking. Unfortunately, creative thinking is not a hallmark of our particular branch of the government.”
“I’m well aware of that, sir.”
Letting out an exasperated breath, Simon leaned forward and spoke quietly, “I understand your frustration, and this job isn’t for everyone. I value you, Sam, but I know this may not be the best place for your specific set of skills.” Holding up his hand, he shook his head. “Also, you need to warn Ms. Lucky Santorini away from continuing her vigilante campaign against Vazov. Butler from the Intelligence Department has suggested she’s been on our network.” Straightening his tie, he looked around the room and frowned. “I haven’t seen any evidence yet, but if they present it to me, then I’ll have to act. I haven’t pursued it due to how SAI helped us with the Belikov takedown, but Lucky is skating a thin line.”
Sam sat back and nodded. “Noted.”
“I want to keep a good working relationship with SAI, and slapping the hand of their Director of Intelligence is going to make that difficult. Take care of it, Sam, so I don’t have to.” Simon drained his glass and then stood up. “Have a good evening, Agent Barton.” He glanced over his shoulder and then back at Sam. “I would expect any agent that worked for me to take full advantage of having an opportunity to speak with a person of interest without any distraction.” He clapped Sam on the shoulder and then took his leave.
Sam watched his boss depart and wondered how in the hell he was going to deliver the message without invoking more of Lucky’s ire. The last thing he wanted to do was piss her off more than he already had, but ignoring the director’s subtle hints wouldn’t do Lucky a bit of good.
Turning back around, he saw Lucky’s legs and knew he had no choice, and the best he could hope for was that at some point she would appreciate it. He stood, straightened his tie, and moved in her direction. At least this time, she couldn’t avoid him, and he finally had the opening he needed.
One way or another, they were going to speak and, as far as he was concerned, that was just the beginning.