The man who’d shot the first Russian fell back into the shadows opposite him.
“Who the fuck are you?” Chase demanded.
Eyes flashed in the darkness. “Ian Black sent me.”
Fucking Ian Black. Jesus, that dude had a way of showing up at both the best and worst times. Right now counted for one of the best.
“Sophie?”
“Last I saw, Ian got in the car with her. She’s protected.”
Thank God for that. The relief coursing through him was strong—and calming. He knew his job and he could do it under pressure. But the news that Sophie was safe with Ian Black gave him the kind of eerie calm that sometimes settled in when the battle was raging and he ceased thinking about his own death. It was when he didn’t care anymore that he did some of his best work.
Sirens sounded in the distance, and he knew they were headed for them. He didn’t want to be here when they arrived. Chase signaled the other guy, who nodded. They both stayed in the shadows, waiting, keeping quiet.
The Russians crept down the stairs, thinking they’d left. It wasn’t until they were in the entry that Chase and his companion struck. He didn’t see what the other guy did, but he wrapped his arm around the neck of one of the Russians and popped his chin with the other, breaking his neck and dropping him to the ground. When he looked over at Ian Black’s man, he’d done something similar.
Chase held out a hand. The man was Special Forces, or had been. Typical of Ian Black’s mercenaries. They weren’t misfits, which was what Chase and his teammates had thought when they’d first encountered them in Qu’rim.
No, they were guys with backgrounds similar to the HOT soldiers, but they’d decided they liked hiring out their skills and not answering to a governmental authority the way the men of HOT did. The US Army owned Chase’s ass. Nobody owned this guy’s.
“Chase Daniels.”
“Brett Wheeler.”
Chase took a breath and wiped the sweat from his face. “Think we better get the fuck out of here, Brett.”
“Couldn’t agree more.”
They stepped outside and started down the street as lights popped on in the building behind them.
“You got a car?”
“Around the corner.”
Chase glanced back over his shoulder, but nobody followed them. He patted his jacket pocket, feeling the outline of the flash drive. Must be some fucked-up shit on this thing if Androv was so desperate to get it back.
He just prayed that Billy Blake could bust the encryption. If not, Sophie would never be safe. And that was a thought he couldn’t bear.
31
Mendez was at work when his personal cell phone rang. “Hawk. What do you have for me?”
“Androv’s people found Fiddler and Sophie, but they got away. Three Russians eliminated. Ian Black assisted… I wish you’d told me that might happen, sir.”
Mendez ran a hand through his hair. Hawk wasn’t active duty anymore. He could cuss out his former commander if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He kept the military protocol in place because it was ingrained in him.
“I couldn’t, Hawk. If he didn’t show, then his name didn’t need to be mentioned. Black walks a dangerous tightrope of his own. I can’t compromise that.”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’re pissed.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mendez laughed. “Goddamn, boy, you aren’t in the Army anymore. Tell me to fuck off if it makes you feel better.”
“No, sir, not doing that. But next time, tell me. I’ll treat the information with the care it deserves.”
Mendez leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. He’d kept so many things to himself for so long that it was almost impossible to trust anyone. Or endanger anyone. The more things he shared, the more likely it was that someone would get hauled before a House committee if the time ever came. He didn’t fucking need that. Couldn’t do that to those who depended on him.
“Where are Fiddler and Sophie now?”
“En route to Charles de Gaulle.”
Hawk didn’t have to tell him they weren’t out of the woods yet. They’d both been in this business long enough to know that was understood.
“Any progress on the files?”
“Still locked tight. But it’s only been a few hours.”
“We’ve got to get them open.” He wanted HOT working on those files, but the best he’d been able to do was send Hawk’s former teammate Billy Blake to help. If anyone could crack it, the Kid could.
“Working on it, sir… That’s all you need to know, by the way.”
“Yeah, copy that,” Mendez said. He didn’t need knowledge of what was going on until they had something worth knowing. It was all about the deniability. “Let me know when you have something. And let me know when Fiddler and the girl are back safely.”