INTO DANGER (Secret Assassins (S.A.S.S.) Book 1) (7 page)

Marlena folded up the clothes on the bed while sounds of dishes and silverware clanging came from the kitchen. She was glad about the interruption. Another minute and she would have forgotten her self-control. She couldn’t afford to forget anything, not at this time. She gathered up the wires, walked deliberately to stand a few feet from a portrait placed strategically facing the bed, and dumped the electronics leftovers like trash. Staring straight ahead, she lifted her chin in a silent challenge.

***

A
little over an hour later, Marlena came back into the room and with a small blade dislodged the tiny electronic micro eye hidden in the frame. She’d returned that device there on purpose earlier. Disabling it, she dropped the useless chip into the pile on the carpet. It’d served its purpose.

She walked out to the mini bar. She shoved aside the bottle of whiskey. She needed something smooth and rich. Cognac. Yes, that might put her in a mellow mood.

It hadn’t been easy saying no to a man like Stash. He’d left after dinner, given her one of his long looks that almost had her changing her mind. Her attraction for him was stronger than she’d thought. It had been a long time since she had actually lusted after a man from the other side, and she knew how high a price that could be.

Marlena wasn’t willing to pay that price again. Except for one thing. She frowned and took a long swallow of the brandy, feeling its fiery heat go straight down her throat into her stomach. She’d never been so aware of a man as she was of Stash McMillan. She felt it down to her toenails whenever he followed her with his dark gaze. He reminded her of a caged animal for some reason. She had tested his depths and knew he had a mind of his own. It was in the way he stood watching her with those brooding eyes, in the way he demanded her attention by merely quirking his beautiful mouth, in the way he pretended to be just what he claimed to be. And he made her laugh. She couldn’t remember a day when she had laughed so much. He was good. Very good.

The phone rang. It still wasn’t whom she was expecting. Picking up the receiver in the kitchen, she didn’t bother to be polite. “Yes?”

“Marlena Maxwell, your bodyguard is useless against us. We want what you have. Hand it over or we’ll come after you from all sides, wherever you are.”

Marlena sighed. “Dear me, and if I give it up, you’ll just leave me alone.” She studied her hand, frowning at a chipped nail.

“You don’t have an option. Give us what we want, or die.”

“Um, sorry, you just gave me two options.”

“You think you can joke with us over this?”

“Why not? Only clowns would talk over a bugged phone this long.”

The line went dead. Marlena tapped her chin with the receiver as she thoughtfully looked overhead, at the micro eye and bug she knew were above her. No doubt, whoever was on the other end of those stupid things had heard every word exchanged, just as they had this morning, when Stash answered the phone. She also knew they wouldn’t be able to trace those calls.

Probabilities and percentages. That was the tightrope she balanced on. The probability of these two parties working together was low, and the percentage they might help her cause by getting in each other’s way was higher. Thus it didn’t hurt to let whoever was monitoring her know other people were after her too. She was used to different groups trying to get what she had, thinking they could handle one woman. She smiled mirthlessly.

It was easy to let her gender blind them all. From the moment she had walked into this apartment with Steve, she’d been ready for a setup. What she had come to D.C. for was big enough to attract those who couldn’t afford to pay its real worth. She was used to shady types coming after her. Apparently it might not even be just the usual kind of crooks.

The special CIA-originated electronic devices betrayed them. They didn’t think she’d know the difference, but she had contacts, and there were plenty of CIA boys who were greedy for money, showing off new inventions being tried out by the Company. So the question of the day was—which side was Steve working for? Good CIA or bad CIA? It was going to be a challenge to find out. Her contact had been very careful thus far, doing everything through middlemen. She would have to take a few more risks than usual. Letting those others know her phone was bugged was one of them.

The thought of putting Stash in danger made her heart skip a beat. Marlena frowned. Why would she be concerned about that, if he were just someone hired to keep an eye on her? He shouldn’t mean a thing. Not a damn thing.

***

C
onfusion in the enemy camp was good. Steve’s commander from his SEAL team had told him that, quoting some ancient Chinese text called The Art of War. He was right. Steve was confused, tired, and frustrated. He had this simple plan. Charm the shoes off a beautiful woman. Get some names. Send her to the Department of Justice. His task force team would then get some action, going after whoever had ordered a contract on...on whom? That was the problem. Too many things missing in this assignment.

When he was with his SEAL team, he knew who the enemy was, why they were there, what they were after. Their objective was to search and destroy paramilitary enemies with an agenda against the U.S. government. The wars were always covert, out of the public eye, but they were real. There was a procedure to each maneuver—his allotment of ammo, location of a target, a timetable, and a clear briefing on the goals of the operation.

Since joining TIARA, he’d been trying very hard to adjust to this new kind of war. Admiral Madison had told him he was needed here for now, and he’d accepted the orders after voicing a few objections. The higher pay was an incentive; he needed the money. From the beginning, the friction between him and his new team had been obvious. It wasn’t that they disliked one another—it was just his style didn’t suit theirs.

This was the first real test. At least, Steve saw it that way. For the first time in months there was something tangible happening. He could feel in his bones it was big. This operation would show him why he’d been transferred, why Admiral Madison told him his skills were needed here.

His mind skimmed quickly through the important things from the day. There was the early morning call with the threats. No one had followed Marlena and him all day, except for his own task force men who were now outside the apartment building for the night. Then there was the quick search of Marlena’s suitcase that hadn’t yielded anything of significance.

When he entered the surveillance room, he found Harden there alone. Great. That was all he needed, another clash with the operations chief.

It wasn’t that he disliked his O.C. Harden had been nothing but fair to him, but the man had a black hole where his personality should be. In the hallways, Steve heard them whisper his nickname, Hard-On, and the reference wasn’t meant to be complimentary.

“Where are the others?” Steve asked as he walked over to the desk where his O.C. sat. As usual he sensed disapproval from the man, even though nothing in his face betrayed it.

“I sent them home. They’re on call in case your target does something between now and tomorrow.”

“My target?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve made it personal. Once you let your emotions get involved, you crossed the line.” Harden looked back at him steadily, challenging him to deny the accusation.

Steve kept his gaze level. “I haven’t done anything to suggest that I can’t handle this.”

It was Harden’s turn to lift an eyebrow. “No?” He leaned forward and clicked a button on a console. “What about that?”

One of the many screens showing the few rooms at Marlena’s apartment flickered, catching Steve’s attention. The couple on the bed. The necklace. The intimacy of shared laughter. There were no sounds, since the mikes had been destroyed, but the evidence was damning. Steve didn’t move or say a word, letting the tape run its course.

“She got you, man. How are you going to catch her if you’re doing your thinking with your gonads?” Harden asked, his voice laced with acid sarcasm.

Now wasn’t the time to think of Marlena’s betrayal, Steve told himself. He turned to face his chief. “I know what I’m doing,” he said levelly. “She’s just trying to cast confusion among her enemies. She knows you’re watching her.”

“Of course she knows. She placed that eye there herself.” Harden smacked his hand on the desk in disgust, showing his anger for the first time since Steve walked in. “She’s telling her watchers—me, specifically—that she’s got you, that we can’t fully trust you anymore.”

“Sir,” Steve reverted back to formality. There was no way to defend himself by being familiar. “Marlena Maxwell wants you to think a certain way. She’s good at this; I know, I’ve been around the woman long enough to experience her manipulative ways. That”—he pointed to the screen—“was meant to create problems for me. We just have to figure out why she did it.”

Of course Steve knew the reason, but he wasn’t going to admit it. It had to do with a bet they had made that day. It was just Marlena’s way of showing whose ass was being had. Another time he might even have found what she did amusing, but not tonight. He was too frustrated. And she’d so cleverly backed him into a corner with his own men. How could he tell them he knew her so well, that he understood her message here, without them turning suspicious? His own O.C. was skeptical of his motives, for God’s sake.

“You think I don’t know what she’s up to?” Harden asked in disgust. He leaned back and sank deeply into his chair, his eyes flint-hard as he looked at Steve. “I’ve been in this kind of stuff a lot longer than you. You’re used to playing Superman, McMillan. Don your gear and go out and fight the bad evil dudes. Well, that kind of mentality isn’t suited for TIARA. We use intel to fight the enemy, not firepower.”

Steve didn’t think it appropriate to point out that Superman always won. He might not have the kind of cloak-and-dagger training that Harden had, but he was a SEAL, and he held his team’s record in the BUD/S infamous O course, an obstacle course created not just to test mental toughness and confidence, but to teach the trainees there was always a better way.

“Each enemy needs a different approach,” he said. “I just think there are more things happening here than a quick assassination. Marlena is—”

“Playing hide-and-seek,” Harden cut in. “She hides and you seek, except that we don’t know what she’s hiding, and she’s picking things for you to find. That’s pretty obvious. What isn’t obvious to you is you’re falling for her. What isn’t obvious is every time she manipulates you, over here, on this end, it adds another nail into your coffin. I’m not the only one assessing these videos, and believe me, I’m only voicing the conclusions of those who are going to see this. One wrong misstep and it’s free fall, McMillan.”

“The order was to get close to the target,” Steve reminded. He no longer cared if he was stepping out of formal protocol. “I’ve been doing that.”

“And your emotions weren’t involved in your decision-making process?”

Steve straightened. There was more here than his being accused of impropriety, whatever the hell that meant. On some other level, Harden was being personal here, but Steve couldn’t figure out why.

“Of course emotions are involved,” he answered, frowning slightly. “Every decision always has an underlying emotion. The point is not to let it affect one’s better judgment. That is, sir, how I approach my job.

Steve caught the glint of something in the eyes of the man across the desk from him.
Something else going on here
. His instinct kept repeating the warning.

It was impossible to crack a tough nut like Harden. Steve had tried to be friendly, aloof, distant, formal, conversational, every way he could think of, to connect with his operations chief. He wanted to get along well with the man because he was the main focus in any sensitive operation. In his special operations group, every commander in charge of each team took time to make sure that everyone was on the same page. TIARA Task Force Two’s operations chief gave orders without instructions and expected them done his way. For Steve, that meant hit and miss. Obviously he’d missed by a mile in this assignment.

Steve decided to feel around for the missing instructions. “So what do you want me to do, sir? Just let it go and let you have a shot with her?”

“It would be easier to take her in and grill her.”

“Like I said before, suppose she says nothing?”

“Suppose we make her? There are ways.”

Steve carefully studied Harden. Ruthlessness was part of the job, but for him there had to be a very good reason for it. One just didn’t randomly hurt a civilian without proof of intent. This wasn’t jungle warfare, after all. Plus the thought of Marlena in a cell...He quelled the thought immediately. Don’t even go there.

He shook his head. “From those threatening calls, someone else thinks she has something valuable. I think she’s here for this something, and keeping her locked up could end up with us never knowing what it is. And let’s say even if she did tell what it is, how are we going to get it without her? It’s important enough that someone else is going after her for it.”

Not the most brilliant argument, but that was the best he could come up with at the moment. He really, really wanted to go back to Marlena’s apartment and...and...what? He had no idea.

“Relax, McMillan,” Harden interrupted his reverie, a corner of his mouth lifting wryly. “It’s out of my hands right now. Your report from this morning obviously pushed some right buttons for you because I’ve got orders to nail Miss Maxwell this time. Seems that no one had ever had concrete evidence of her crimes, not enough to stick to that leather outfit she loves so much, anyway. She’s all yours for now. Who knows? If you actually get her what’s due to the likes of her, that would be a serious notch in your belt, Superman. That is, if you get her, of course, before she gets you.” He jerked his chin toward the screen. “So far, she’s winning.”

Steve knew he couldn’t say a thing to defend Marlena. She already had him twisted up enough to even consider making such a stupid move to his own team, no less. If he even voiced some sort of defense, she would get her wish—his whole team would never fully trust him. He just had to work his way out of this emotional web she’d weaved around him on his own. Pronto.