Kiss the Enemy (Slye Temp) (30 page)

He’d told her he didn’t kill innocent people.

Monsters like that deserved the worst Logan could do to them.

CHAPTER 37

“Does this flight come with service?” Margaux smarted off, not caring if she got backhanded. She’d asked for water right before the Banker’s men had covered her head with the black bag and she was still thirsty.

“What’s your problem?” a heavy voice said close to the side of her head. He sat behind her in the helicopter. A six-seater jet model used for corporate transporation that had a reasonably quiet interior.

“Same thing I wanted an hour ago. Water.”

A plastic bottle landed on her hands that were clasped in her lap. Not bound, though. Cuffs weren’t needed when you’d had three weapons pointed at you from the moment you were picked up outside a hotel. She unscrewed the top and lifted the bottle to her lips, taking a drink.

There was no telling where they were headed.

The limo had rolled up to the hotel where they’d been instructed to be ready at nine. A driver had hurried around to open the rear door. Tinted glass wrapped the limo, leaving the interior almost completely dark.

Party on the outside and lethal on the inside.

She and Logan had climbed in to face armed men who’d been out of view from the exterior.

Even if Logan’s men had followed the limo for the forty minute ride out of Denver, there was no way to keep up with a helicopter once she and Logan were searched in the hangar then walked out to where the helicopter was parked at the small airport.

It didn’t lift off until she and Logan wore the black bags.

She noticed the change in rotor noise and felt the helicopter begin a descent.

A hand covered hers.

She might have reacted if not for recognizing Logan’s touch. He gently squeezed her hand. Some things had changed last night, like Logan’s convincing her that he
had
cared after all.

But other things hadn’t changed.

Margaux still had to hand the Banker over to Sabrina, if she didn’t kill him first.

She couldn’t quiet that part of her that begged for him to resist when the time came to take him down. A fatal flaw in her personality, no doubt.

Of all the variables she couldn’t control in this operation, she could depend on one thing for sure. Once Logan got what he wanted to free his brother, he would help her capture the Banker.

The helicopter touched down. She climbed out with the help of men who handled her with sterile professionalism. Brutal cold clutched at her exposed hands and neck. The coat she’d picked yesterday and bulky sweater she wore were doing their jobs keeping her warm. Corduroy pants protected her legs, but the wind still cut through them. Her teeth chattered.

No gloves or hat had been allowed. They’d taken her scarf.

Someone led her up a slight incline then said, “Take a step. Another step. Walk straight ahead.”

Her boot heels clicked on a hard surface.

The hand let go of her. “Stop there.”

She did. A door shut out the cold air. The bag came off and she raised her hands to brush loose strands off her face, pushing her hair over her shoulders. Her eyes adjusted to the sconces illuminating a foyer that had a stairwell going down instead of up. The room was oval. No windows. Felt like a fortress.

Logan stepped up next to her. “You good?”

“Yes.”

One man had called the shots from the minute they’d entered the limo. He was Logan’s height, but thicker with no neck and a long Slavik face with sharp cheekbones and a short nose. He said, “You will go downstairs for the meeting.”

Logan put his hand at her back and she moved forward, ready to meet the man who had ordered Nanci’s death. In her mind, she attacked one of his men and snatched away his FN P90, took out the three of them then charged downstairs to blow their boss’s head off.

In reality, she put one foot in front of the other and remembered the part she was to play. She was Logan’s woman, she was deadly, and she worked as a snitch. At the bottom landing, she stepped into a room that was a twenty-foot-wide half circle with a curtain running across the flat wall.

Two home-theater-style chairs with a console between them faced the curtain.

Her hand itched for a knife or a gun.  

“Please have a seat,” a male voice annouced through a speaker system.

She exchanged a look with Logan. No turning back now.

He’d dressed for the weather in wool pants, a collared shirt and a black leather jacket. A civilized look for any man, but for Logan it was like putting a doggy sweater on a tiger. Be prepared to be ripped apart when you made the mistake of thinking he was pet material. He took the far seat and she sank into the one next to him.

If they were going to be executed, at least they’d be comfortable.

The curtain separated in the middle and drew apart to each side, revealing a wall of glass as tall as the ten-foot ceiling, and at least two inches thick. Almost certainly bulletproof. Might even take a .50 caliber round.

One chair faced them from the other side of the window ten feet away from the glass wall, but it might as well have been the other side of the world. No getting through that barrier.

Stealing a guard’s weapon would have been useless.

A door opened on the other side and a man strolled in. He was bald and slight of build with a pair of half glasses propped on his narrow nose. The nonchalant stride fit his slacks, silk shirt and cable-knit sweater. All he was missing was a pipe and newspaper.

This was the man who brokered bulk murder?

When he reached the chair, he pulled the glasses off, sat down and two eyes so dark they could be black looked at them through the glass. “Welcome, Dragan. And your lady friend’s name is?”

“Not important. This isn’t a social call,” Logan replied.

Margaux kept the surprise off her face. So maybe the Banker didn’t know she was Margaux Duke from Atlanta. Snake Eyes might still be alive if he’d only sold her out to the DEA, as if that wasn’t bad enough.

“Very well, we’ll get down to business.”  The Banker folded his hands over his chest and propped his elbows on the chair arms. He had no accent as if he’d been raised in midwestern America and his words were so precise Margaux wondered if he had trained to change his voice to fit in wherever he went.

He addressed Logan as he spoke. “I require you and your team in two places at once that are fifty-seven miles apart.”

Logan wouldn’t want to split his team, but Margaux kept a mildly disinterested look on her face as agreed. Logan had said he could figure a way around actually killing anyone for the Banker.

She hoped he could back that claim.

The Banker had paused and when Logan didn’t comment, he went on. “One team will set up a bomb attack for the convention center in downtown Seattle.”

Her gut squeezed, but she kept her face neutral as the Banker continued. “The other team will protect a Wilder Exploration drilling site south of the city.”

“Protect the site from what?” Logan asked.

“Technicians on site will need a window of time with no interference. No unexpected inspection. No one coming into work early. These men are on Wilder’s payroll. I have assured Wilder that his people will be safe once they finish sabotaging the drill site. Your men are to enter the command center for the site at a precise moment and escort the technicians out, making it look like a kidnapping.”

That part didn’t sound so bad. What was this guy up to and who was he representing this time?

Logan stuffed his next words with impatience. “That’s simple enough. Let’s talk about Seattle. What’s the area targeted and the body count expected so I can plan effectively?”

“I know you’ll be disappointed, but there will be no deaths in this attack.”

Margaux almost asked him to repeat that, but Logan got it out first. “Say again.”

“This is to be a terrorist threat, but there will be no actual attack. You will kidnap the speaker at a natural gas technology conference, but it will be easy. He’s in on the whole plan, even sabotaging his own drilling site.”

“Who?”

“Svenson Wilder of Wilder Explorations.”

Margaux realized why she knew that name and glanced over at Logan. He frowned, acting as if he didn’t recognize the name, but she’d bet he knew exactly who the guy was. Still, any questions about Wilder would sound like he was too interested in the wrong thing.

She, on the other hand, could pump for information.

Margaux asked the Banker, “Isn’t Wilder that guy who has a revolutionary design that’s challenging even horizontal drilling?”

“Precisely.”

“Why would he do this? At the rate he’s going, he stands to be the Steve Jobs of the natural gas industry.” 

“Someone is always willing to pay more. China is growing economically so fast it’s becoming much like the US. They’re dependent on oil like never before while things are shifting here with the recent discovery of enough resources in North Dakota to sever this country’s need for Middle East oil. China does not care to be dependent upon the US as they move forward. They have their own reserves, but they lack the extraction technology that this country possesses.”

Margaux wanted to hurt Wilder. He’d benefitted by living in a country where he could develop a system worth billions. There would be time to deal with him and the good news was no one had to die.

The Banker waved his glasses as he spoke, a professor explaining economics. “Wilder’s technology has taken retrieval a step further than the horizontal drilling with the additional diagonal cut and his patented system. He’s fine-tuned hydraulic fracturing, which will likely appease the environmentalists who whine about it even though it’s been around for over forty years.”

“I don’t understand,” Margaux said, playing along. She’d read about Wilder. Smart guy. Too bad he had no morals.

The Banker explained, “Wilder came up with a superior method of developing unusual hydraulic fracture points that creates less impact on the environment and protects the water table from methane. It will revolutionize natural gas extraction. The process takes more time up front, but the production flow is higher. Take him
and
his technology away, and this country is left with its present, archaic methods.”

Logan asked, “Why sabotage his drilling site? What does that benefit?”

The Banker pointed his glasses at Logan. “Good question. This particular location is his premier drill site with the deepest drilling yet. If it remains intact, his leaving the country will have no impact. But with the right setting, the minor explosions used to break loose the natural gas will instead be magnified to generate enough damage to leak methane into the water table and blow up the drilling site. Once his people are safely out, they will travel with him to China.”

“And the US will think he was kidnapped so they’ll have no reason to suspect sabotage at the drilling site.”

“Precisely.” 

Logan smiled in appreciation. “Plus there’s the added benefit of China’s improving their relations with the Middle East by impeding the progress here in the US.”

“A win-win all the way around.”  The Banker smiled, clearly pleased with himself. Dress him any way you want, but there was no humanity in that face.

“Let’s talk money.” Logan sat back, relaxed.

Margaux listened as the two men hammered out the zeroes and Logan negotiated as if he took deals to commit acts of terrorism and kidnapping every day.

But of course, he did.

Watching him, she wondered how many times he’d walked into a viper’s nest with the odds against his survival? He had to be exceptional at what he did to stay alive, but this job would divide his men and that upped the risk factor.

Logan asked in an incredulous tone, “
You’re
going to make the payment in person?”

The Banker announced, “Yes. I will hand you the money when you walk Wilder up to the Learjet that will be waiting to take both of us out of this country. I don’t care to be involved on that level with an operation, but China has very deep pockets and the only way they would agree to this was if I personally handled the exchange. My reputation is such that they paid a significant amount as an advance, which means that I will not suffer failure in any form.”

“My men are the best. They won’t fail.”

“That’s good because you would not like what happens to them if you do fail. I’m a man of my word, Mr. Stoli. I have a simple philosophy that guarantees success. Everyone who works for me knows that I never threaten what I can’t produce.”

Logan showed total disregard for that threat, asking, “What about the specifics? I need locations and time?”

“When you’re returned to your hotel, you’ll receive an envelope with everything spelled out in detail, but be prepared to go mobile right away. You’ll also receive some photos I think you’ll find interesting.”

She didn’t like the sound of that. Why had he demanded her presence? As if he’d read her thoughts, the Banker’s empty eyes shifted to her. “I will expect to see you with the Seattle team, my dear.”

Logan stiffened, but he didn’t snap a reply. “I command my team.”

“I understand, but having a woman in the operation allows for covering the unexpected. Is there a problem with
her
being in Seattle?”

Nicely played. If Logan refused to bring her on this mission, he raised the Banker’s suspicion over Margaux.

“She’ll be with me.”

“Very good. Enjoy your return trip.”

The room on the other side went dark. Margaux stared at her and Logan’s reflections as the curtain drew closed. She stood when he did and turned toward the stairs where their guard waited for them.

She had a choice to make. She trusted Logan to do the right thing, but she also had a duty to Sabrina and this country. Sabrina expected Margaux to avoid letting her emotions dictate her decisions about national security, which meant Margaux had to get word to Sabrina about what was going down in Seattle.

Logan would gag her and leave her tied up if he knew she was going to contact someone. She
had
told him she’d help.