Читать книгу Gunning for Trouble - ХеленКей Даймон, HelenKay Dimon - Страница 10

Avery felt a rush of air behind her right before a hand clamped over her mouth and another slipped around her waist, banding her arms to her sides. A startled scream died in her throat as she was dragged out of the room and deeper into the shadows. The fog cleared from her head just as panic bubbled up from her stomach.

The bare forearm and stone wall of a chest gave away the sex of her attacker. A man. A big man with a grip destined to leave indents on her skin. She kicked out her leg only to have his wrap around hers and lock it back. Her neck straining, she tried to get out a mumble over the shrieking building alarm, anything to warn Caleb.

“Avery, I asked you…” Caleb’s comment faded as he scanned the room and his gaze fell on them. He reached for the switch and the overhead light flickered on.

Despite having her chest compressed and her jaw locked shut by some animal’s fingers, her nerves stopped jumping around. Hearing Caleb’s voice didn’t send her spinning with relief, but it did bring back hope for survival. She knew him as a man who worked in a lab. This side of him, the part that felt at home with a gun and confident while engaging predators, was new to her, even though she always sensed that protective streak lurking beneath everything else. Heck, he didn’t even let the fact he was half-naked stop him.

“Let her go.” He didn’t yell or threaten. Didn’t even raise his weapon.

And that fast, the suffocating hold was gone. Off balance, she listed to the side only to have the attacker’s hand return again, this time to steady her. But it was too late for calm. If Caleb wasn’t going to shoot this guy, she would try to take him down. She turned and raised a fist to knock him into the fridge.

The attacker caught her clenched hand in his but didn’t hurt her. “I don’t think so,” he said.

She tried to think of another way to cause damage. “Who are you?”

“The cavalry.” The man’s amused tone didn’t match the black commando T-shirt or stealth attack. Then again, neither did the boyish dimple or the wire-rimmed glasses.

“He’s with me.” The second Caleb stepped up, the other man dropped her hand. The building alarm shut off right after.

“Thank God. I can hear again.” The man nodded in Caleb’s direction. “Nice outfit, by the way.”

Avery followed the stare as she tried to calm her breathing. Looking at the muscles stretching across Caleb’s bare chest sure didn’t help with that task. He hadn’t gotten soft in their years apart. If anything, he’d gotten more fit. She imagined this is what his body looked like back at the Naval Academy and in the years in the military that followed. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on his stomach.

Those broad shoulders brought back memories. They would lie in bed with him hovering over her. She used to love to run her fingers over his skin, dip into the space between his collarbone and his neck, and then up and through his sandy brown hair. The man possessed the sexiest green-gray eyes she had ever seen.

And a stubborn streak that made her head pound.

“You got here fast,” Caleb said to the man who was obviously a friend and not an enemy.

“Always nice when a contingency plan works,” the man said as he stole glances in her direction.

When Caleb didn’t explain what was happening or even bother to act like standing there half-naked after his front door exploded was an odd thing, she took the lead. The way she figured it, she’d tolerated just about enough confusion for one evening. If her heart raced any faster, she was going to pass out. Last thing she needed was the show of male bonding, not with armed guys hunting for them only a few floors above.

She looked up at the stranger. Caleb stood about six feet, but this guy had to be another three or so inches taller, so looking up was her only option. “Who are you?”

Caleb placed a hand against the small of her back. “Avery Walker, this is Adam Wright. We work together.”

Adam nodded his head. “Ma’am.”

“You don’t want to know why I’m with Caleb?”

She saw Adam swallow back a smile. “I figure if you’re here, it’s because he wants you to be. The rest isn’t my business.”

“He’s the computer genius of the group,” Caleb said, cutting through the personal stuff.

Adam scowled at Caleb but he missed it and Avery was too busy fighting off the flood of anger pouring through her. “Computers? Are you kidding? Felt more like you were the pain enforcer to me. You scared the he—”

Adam held up his hands as if surrendering, even though he held a gun in one. “And you were a worthy adversary. If I hadn’t stopped you just then, we’d be picking my teeth up off the floor.”

“We still might,” she mumbled.

Adam smiled. “Fair enough.”

She refused to be charmed or put off. Concentrating while Caleb stood there in his tight underwear was hard enough. “Anyone want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Adam is with Recovery.”

Adam’s shoulders tensed. “Caleb, what are you—”

“She knows.”

Adam looked back and forth between Caleb and Avery. “Not possible.”

The poor guy looked ready to vomit, which she figured served him right after the squeeze play he put on her midsection. “Totally possible.”

Caleb blew out a long, exaggerated breath. “Apparently it is.”

She saw Adam’s hand shift toward his gun. She saw it and Caleb saw it.

“Stop.” Caleb pressed his hands down as if trying to calm the situation. “Avery is safe. Trust me. I’m not worried about her alliances.”

She had no idea what that meant but the whole talking-like-she-wasn’t-there thing wasn’t her favorite.

“She does about Rod and Recovery.” She hesitated to make sure her sarcasm made an impression. “My question was really about why we’re in this condo and when exactly Caleb here had the time to call in the cavalry here.”

He had the nerve to shrug. “We all have contingency plans in case of an emergency.”

“I’m his,” Adam said.

They acted as if that explained everything. “I still don’t get it.”

“If the silent alarm trips—” Adam pointed to his watch as he spoke “—I come running. If Caleb isn’t here or on that fire escape, I know he needs help.”

“You got here before we did.”

“I live in the building and was already in the condo when the building’s fire alarm started blaring. Something tripped Caleb’s silent alarm before that.”

“You mean someone.” Caleb played with the buttons on his watch, as if the conversation bored him. “Avery broke into my apartment.”

“Impressive.” Adam’s tone and his slow nod suggested he meant it.

Caleb finally looked up again. “And now we’re stuck because there are police and bad guys roaming around, and I’m not sure which is which.”

“Do we know the identity of said bad guys?” Adam asked. “Just wondering who we ticked off this time.”

As much as she wanted to hear about whatever idiot would be self-destructive enough to come after these two, she jumped in. “You didn’t. I did.”

She waited until both men looked at her. She wanted to make sure she had their attention because she needed them to understand how serious the situation had become. “They want me.”

Caleb stared at her for a few seconds without saying anything. Then he wrapped his fingers around her elbow and turned toward the front door. “Then despite the danger, we have to get you out of here and somewhere safe.”

“You might want to put on some clothes first,” Adam called out, right before she could.

Caleb stopped in midstep and glanced down his front. “Good plan.”

Adam shook his head. “I’ll get them.”

She waited until Adam stepped into the bathroom to whisper her question to Caleb. “Can he be trusted?”

He stared after Adam, glanced around the room, basically did everything but give her the courtesy of looking at her. “Yeah. Adam’s one of the few people I do trust.”

There was nothing subtle in Caleb’s comment. “Unlike me?”

This time his gaze locked on hers. “Yeah, Avery. Unlike you.”

TREVOR WALTERS LEANED back in his oversize leather chair and stared at the men sitting on the other side of his desk. They were experts in their fields but he could control them both with a few phone calls, as evidenced by the fact they showed up on his turf before five in the morning, before the workday even started. Likely before these government workers normally woke up. They asked for a meeting. He set the unreasonable terms to see if they’d meet them. Not a surprise they had.

His company, Orion Industries, specialized in threat management. He advised governments and corporations, supplying assessments and muscle. Today his country’s government had come calling in the form of a fifty-something bureaucrat with graying hair, a runner’s build and a Georgetown Law class ring.

“We’re here on a sensitive subject,” John Tate said, then stopped. It was as if he thought his impressive title at the Department of Justice gave him the right to make demands.

Trevor wasn’t impressed by the deputy director of the Office of Enforcement Operations. The man oversaw complex surveillance and witness protection requests, including who got in and who didn’t. But with all that power the guy still had no clue about the corruption raging through his office.

Russell Ambrose, the other man in the room, knew all about deceit. As chief inspector in the D.C. office of WitSec and a career government official with the U.S. Marshal Service, he should have been crystal clean. Trevor knew from experience that wasn’t the case.

Trevor knew. Russell knew. Tate, the man at the very top, was the only one in the dark. Trevor almost smiled at the irony.

“You know I am always willing to lend my company’s services if needed,” he said.

John gave a quick glance in Russell’s direction before starting. “I’m afraid this is a bit more personal.”

Trevor had an idea where the conversation was headed but wanted to make the man spell it out. Let John squirm a bit. In Trevor’s view, powerful men always did the best squirming. “How so?”

“Your brother.” John brushed lint or something equally invisible off his pants. “I’m very sorry for your loss, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“I attended the service. It was very moving.”

“Agreed.” Trevor had planned it, headed the cover-up into the true cause of the death and saw to it everyone believed his brother died a hero. Their parents deserved to grieve with honor. Having the world view Bram as the model statesman and father served that purpose. It also ensured a steady stream of contracts for Trevor’s company. Bram got the praise and Trevor reaped the benefits. He could live with the deal, even though the sting of Bram’s loss pricked stronger than Trevor expected it would.

In the quiet of his home office with only his whiskey as witness, he had mourned. He’d let the weakness flow through him. Mostly, though, he simmered with fury that Bram had gotten pulled so far into the terrible situation that led to his murder. He had been so reckless and paid the ultimate price.

Russell tapped the thin file resting on his lap. “We need some information.”

“You should know I don’t have any access to Bram’s records. Those were in his congressional office and are confidential.” Except for the boxes Trevor had already destroyed. He had owed Bram that much. Preserve his memory and bury the evidence. That had always been their unspoken deal if the worst happened.

John nodded. “Of course, but—”

Trevor flipped through his Rolodex even though he knew the number by heart. “Bram’s former chief of staff, David Brennan, is handling everything in the office pending a special election to fill Bram’s seat. David is one of the nominees and the likely successor. You can call him to get what you need.”

John put out his hand as if to stop Trevor’s movements. “This relates to work outside Bram’s job as U.S. Representative.”

“Former.”

“What?”

“My brother died saving a member of his office staff.” The kidnapping of Mia Landers by her abusive ex, the shoot-out, the inevitable death toll even Trevor could not hide. It all played out exactly as Bram had planned, except for where he got caught in the cross fire. That had been a possibility, but a remote one. “As such, my brother is no longer a member of Congress. Or of anything else, for that matter.”

At least that was the carefully constructed story Trevor had sold to the world with the cooperation of the Recovery Project agents, the very men who killed Bram.

John’s squirming started right as expected. “Yes, well, I am aware of that.”

“Then you also know my brother and I kept our respective careers separate. Since I deal in government contracts, it would have been a conflict of interest for Bram to be involved in my business and vice versa.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” John said under his breath.

“Why?”

Russell opened the mysterious file in front of him. “We have some questions relating to the congressman’s role in the Witness Security Program.”

“Witness protection? Isn’t that your specialty? Both of you.” Trevor let his gaze travel over the two men, hesitating just long enough to make sure they understood who controlled this conversation.

Trevor knew Russell wrongly believed he had the upper hand. His attempts at blackmail had proved that much. Trevor admitted to the serious miscalculation in letting Russell worm his way into his private life. Trevor vowed never to make that mistake again.

“It would seem your brother also had an interest in WitSec. He made several inquiries prior to his death, some through proper channels and others not,” Russell said.

Trevor had warned Bram not to dig, or at least to be careful when he did. One of his brother’s many failures had been his oversize ego and naive belief that his office would protect him no matter how egregious the offense. Trevor knew better. He had seen dictators of small countries fall, even helped make it happen, so he understood the devastating impact of poor choices and emotional thinking.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you,” he said.

John shifted to the front part of his chair. “Is it possible the congressman sought information about witness protection on your behalf?”

“No.”

“You’re sure?”

“Quite.”

John frowned. “Yet you’re not offended by my question.”

“You learn many things when you lose a sibling. You understand that no matter what you’ve achieved in this world or how much power you command, some things remain out of your final control.” Trevor leaned back in his chair. “Except my temper. It would seem that is the one thing I can control.”

Russell closed his file without ever reading a word from it. “Maybe if we looked through your correspondence we might see something you didn’t.”

“That is not possible, as I’m sure you know. Not with the confidential nature of my work. I have clients, and their needs must be protected.” But now Trevor knew the real reason for the visit. They wanted free access. John suspected him, of what wasn’t clear, but Trevor knew the groundwork once laid could be a significant problem.

“I was hoping to handle this privately,” John said.

“I believe we just did.” Trevor stood up and tugged on the bottom of his suit jacket to make sure it had fallen back in place. “Now, if that’s all, gentlemen?”

Russell took the hint and rose to his feet. “Of course. We won’t take any more of your time.”

Trevor had to bite back a wave of bile whenever he looked at Russell. He was the worst kind of man—one dripping in weakness who wrongly believed he possessed strength.

He paid Russell well to make sure meetings like this never happened. Looked like the man needed a reminder of the terms of their deal. “Nonsense. I am always available to government officials.”

“We do all want the same thing here,” John said.

Trevor seriously doubted that. “And what would that be?”

“Justice.” Russell fumbled over the word. Not a surprise since as far as Trevor could tell the man did not have any concept of the word.

“I’ve always found that term somewhat elusive. After all, we don’t all agree on what’s just, now do we?” Trevor let the words sink in before he headed for the door to show them out.

John hesitated for a second but then followed. “If you think of anything, you will let us know, correct?”

“Of course.”

Russell nodded. “We would appreciate that.”

Trevor decided Russell would do more than that. He would have a front-row seat to what happened next. “Rest assured I will do everything necessary to resolve our issues.”