Surrender (The Command Series Book 3) (20 page)

He checked in with Jason while heading to the airport to pick up Gio. Vitale’s plane had been cleaned and a new staff hired instantly. Did they not wonder what had happened to the last crew?

Gio hadn’t yet landed when Ethan arrived at the hangar. He had a brief conversation with the waiting driver that the Abramos had hired, and watched the plane circle to approach. It was surreal. A little more than a day ago, he’d been in the cockpit of that same plane with her, worried half out of his mind about what was going to happen.

He’d have put a bullet in Giovanni Abramo if it came to it. All of his work, and all of the CIA’s plans—he’d throw them away for a woman he barely knew. Maybe that wasn’t true. He didn’t know every detail of Olivia’s past, although that information was just a phone call away, but he
understood
her. And he felt like she understood him. He held a strange and exhilarating connection to her.

The wheels of the Abramo jet had just touched down when Ethan’s phone buzzed.

“Can you talk?” Jason asked in English.

“You’ll need to be quick,” Ethan said. “What’s happened?” The marshal was smart enough to know not to contact him unless it was important. Jason had already blown Ethan’s cover once, in Croatia. He’d forgive the guy for that, but blowing Ethan’s cover now would be a disaster.

“Do you know who she is?”

Daniel had run a preliminary background check on Olivia and turned up nothing unusual, or so he’d been told. A chill coasted down his back. Was she working for another agency, perhaps Canada’s CSIS? Or working for one of the Abramo family rivals? Maybe Ethan had been so filled with lust he’d become blind to what she really was. Had he slipped enough to get played?

“No, I guess not. Who is she?”

“She’s Kathryn Pierce. I don’t know if you were stateside when her story broke, but it was a big fucking deal.”

The rumble of the engines crawling toward the hangar dropped out. Ethan
had
been blind, too blind to recognize the woman whose harrowing story had been used by the Pentagon as propaganda. It had been right in front of him. Her dark look at the mention of a crash, the way she stayed calm when witnessing death, and of course, her scarred back.

“How’d you—”

“She looks different now,” Jason said, “and it’s been a long time, but at the base I served my first tour on, you couldn’t go five feet without seeing her picture. I doubt anyone would recognize her in Europe with the name change.”

She’d lied about who she was. Yet, hadn’t he done exactly the same to her? That night in South Africa he’d asked her what kind of secrets she was keeping, and she’d answered him.
Plenty.

“I thought you should know,” Jason said.

Maybe he said ‘thanks’ or ‘goodbye’ to Jason, but Ethan was too focused elsewhere. The plane hadn’t stopped yet. It would take the attendant at least a minute to get the stairs set in place. He hung up and got on the Internet on his phone, cursing the slow download on Wikipedia.

There was a picture. Her young, dirty face streaked with tears, under the arm of an Army Ranger, and her too yellow dyed hair was matted with blood.
That was why she didn’t want to go blond.

The helicopter she’d been co-piloting had mechanical failure and crashed on a mountain in Afghanistan. Kathryn had been the sole survivor, and had to wait alongside the dead bodies of her crew, through the long, freezing night for rescue. During that night on the mountain, she’d had visitors. The explosion that ripped through her back had been a bomb she’d set for the Taliban fighters who tried to capture her.

She’d killed three men.

Ethan pocketed the phone, his body numb. This woman had been to hell and back, and she’d made it. A hardened survivor.

“Is everything all right?” Gio asked.

Hearing the Italian brought Ethan crashing back into the present. He blinked slowly, tucking the thoughts away for later, when he could process them away from Abramo eyes. Gio stood impatiently before Ethan, drumming his fingers on the strap of his laptop bag.

“It’s fine. How was your flight?”

“Better. I didn’t have to wear an oxygen mask this time.”

Gio slid into the awaiting limo. Ethan followed into the backseat, ignoring the emotions inside him that wanted attention. The impulse to come up with an excuse so he could sneak off and call her was shockingly strong.

“I appreciate the way you handled the Renzo thing with my father.” Gio said it like a casual thanks, and not like Ethan had saved his skinny Italian ass. “I don’t know that much about you, but you seem . . . loyal.”

“It’s no problem,” Ethan said. “And I am.”

“Good. Tell the driver to take us to this restaurant.” He pulled the address up on his phone.

When the car turned out of the airport, Ethan focused on his mission. “Can I ask what the plan is?”

“Mr. Dunn believes he has an emergency meeting with his head of Italian distribution.”

Jesus, the Abramos could pull strings fast. “We go in with him?” Right through the front doors of Osterhägen?

Gio flashed a lazy smile. “No. Apparently, Mr. Dunn is proud of his city. He takes his one-on-one meetings at this fancy Munich restaurant.”

There’d been lengthy discussion last night between Daniel and Ethan about the situation, and once Hendrix, the field office director got involved, Ethan knew he was screwed. More specifically, the Dunns were screwed, again. Ethan was attached to Gio, not Vitale, so the faster Gio got back to Rome, the faster Ethan could maneuver to be installed in Renzo’s place.

And chatter indicated that the Serbians were planning something. The clock was ticking down on Ethan getting his intel. Gio wouldn’t leave Munich until he had his answers. It put Ethan in one fucking awkward position.

But if Ethan could take the Abramo danger away from the Dunns, he’d take it off of Olivia, too.

“What about the Hayward woman?” Ethan asked. “Is she going to be there?”

“If she isn’t, you’ll convince him to call his American whore and have her come running.”

The SIG Sauer burned against his ribs, whispering to Ethan, but he ignored the impulse. At least he could avoid the ruse of having to intimidate Shawn into summoning Kara. While Gio checked his phone, Ethan texted Shawn about what was scheduled to go down, and that it would be better if both Jason and Kara were there. Jason was the head of Osterhägen security, after all.

And he would be good backup if Ethan lost control of Gio, or lost control of himself.

It was a private, intimate room at the restaurant. The focal point was a stained-glass window that threw different colors of daylight across the white linens on the table. Gio had ordered wine for himself while he waited alone, seated across from the door he’d stationed Ethan at.

Kara and Shawn came in first, followed by Jason, and they froze when they saw the unexpected Italian waiting for them. Ethan silently wished for a smooth, quick meet. He was depending on his friends, as was the Agency, to pull this off.

Gio stood from the table and his lips drew back into a smile that was almost a sneer.

“Have a seat,
Herr
Dunn,” Ethan said in English, and turned to Jason. “Give me your gun. This won’t take long unless you want it to.”

Jason’s attempt to draw on Ethan had been telegraphed, and Ethan appreciated the performance. He yanked Jason’s Glock from the marshal’s holster and jammed it in the back of his pants.

“Who is this?” Shawn asked. “I have a meeting with Michele—”

Ethan held open his jacket to give them a view of his SIG, then gestured to Gio. “No. Today you have a meeting with this man. Sit and answer his questions.”

“And then?” Jason’s voice was dark.

Don’t oversell this, cowboy.
The faster they got through this, the less time anyone had to screw up. “Just sit the fuck down.”

Kara’s eyes were focused on Gio, studying him as she hesitantly approached the table. She lowered into a chair directly opposite Gio, her posture stiff and alert. “What does he want?”

As Gio spoke, Ethan rounded the table and stood behind the Italian, taking in the scene before him. Jason had his hands on his hips, a displeased look smeared on his face as he towered over his seated family. Shawn sat beside his fiancée, his hand clasped on her knee. He leaned forward, as if trying to stay between her and the men that were a threat.

“He’s asked if any of you know who he is.”

Kara and Shawn shook their heads.

“Ask the woman,” Gio demanded, “if she saw this man when she was being held by Juric.” Gio tossed his phone down with a thud, pointing it toward her. Her pale blue eyes flicked down to the screen as Ethan repeated Gio’s question in English.

Her gaze went to Ethan’s and her mouth fell open. She recognized Constantine and wasn’t sure how to answer.

“Don’t look at me,” he spat out. “Surely you can answer this simple question.” Kara was smart, she’d understand that he was giving her permission.

Her expression turned cold. “Yes.”

Gio sighed. “Fucking Juric. I told my brother not to help him. Ask her if she knows what happened.”

Kara appeared to consider her answer carefully. Even though Gio didn’t speak English, talking openly about it was a bad idea. It would be too easy to forget their role and slip.

“I only saw him once, in the hallway where he was shot.”

Gio straightened when this information was relayed. “She saw that happen? Who did it?”

Her gaze never flitted to Ethan as she answered his question. “One of the men who rescued me. He didn’t have a choice because the other man was armed. I was told later that his name was Tony.”

She’d done a decent job with the lie, and Ethan would get her the rest of the way there. Who knew if that was his real name? Tony had been a merc Ethan had crossed paths with during an op in Prague. He’d taken Shawn’s money and the job of rescuing Kara without hesitation, and that job had taken his life.

Her voice fell an octave. “He died just outside the house.”

That was true, whether she knew it or not.

Ethan translated and Gio’s expression soured. “He’s dead? Isn’t that convenient? My father won’t like it.” He examined Kara with a hard look. “Do you believe her? It could have been one of the Dunns, and she’s protecting them.”

Neither of the Dunns were the man in the room she was protecting. “She looks smart. I’ll make it clear that lying’s not a good idea.” He turned off his emotions and focused his ruthless glare on her. “If you’re fucking lying,” the English poured out of his mouth and dripped with malice, “I’ll cut up that pretty face you’ve got, and then I’ll kill all of you.”

When he’d used that threatening look on Olivia, she’d barely had a reaction, but now color washed away from Kara.
At least that still works
, he thought grimly, and it was the reaction he needed from her. Shawn leaped to his feet, looking ready to attack. But Ethan stood behind Gio, so he put out a hand, gesturing to sit. He raised an eyebrow, silently asking Shawn to calm down. It was under control. Gio would think this was Ethan flashing his gun in intimidation.

Kara tugged Shawn down into his seat, lifted her chin, and her expression was fierce. “I’m not lying. Do you want me to describe the way he died in detail? How his blood looked on the yellow wallpaper?” Goddamn, she was believable. Gio had to see it.

Ethan translated what she’d said and added, “Just because something’s convenient, that doesn’t make it untrue.”

The Italian set his hands on the table, pushed up to stand, and sipped the remainder of his wine. He took his time, drawing it out like an asshole. “I’d like to leave.”

Ethan pulled Jason’s Glock out, ejected the magazine, and removed the round from the chamber. The gun thumped on the table as he pocketed the ammo. “No one leaves this room for the next ten minutes, and stay off your phones. If you do this, you won’t see me or this man again, understood?”

Gio drifted out of the restaurant and back into the limo, heading straight to the airport for a quick getaway. His disappointment was obvious; he’d wanted one of the Dunns to answer for his brother’s death.