Benson just laughs; “Cool it, Toro; she can't hear you acting like a little bitch anyways.”
I'll kill him. I swear to God I'll kill him.
“What do you want with her,” I snarl through clenched teeth; “Money?”
Benson roars out a laugh, his whole body shaking as if it’s the funniest fucking thing he's ever heard; “Money?” He rolls his eyes and takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. I spit when he offers me one, and he shrugs and sticks one in his mouth; “No, not money, Javier. You realize we're still one of the top contracts for the U.S. Government, right?” He chuckles as he flicks a zippo and brings the flame to the end of his cigarette. It glows red as he sucks in the acrid smoke before letting it stream back out through his nostrils.
“You have any idea how much money the Defense Department pays other people to fight their wars for them? You know what my fuckin stock would be worth if we went public?” He shakes his head, inhaling tobacco smoke; “No, Toro, she's not for money; she's a bargaining chip.”
“For?”
He grins at me; “I think you know what for.”
I frown; it's not me they want, not money, not-
“I think you'll find that we're on the same team here, Toro.”
Fuck.
And then I know exactly what he wants; he wants the soldiers. They want William's boys - Logan, Bryce, and Hudson - the ones that got away. The ones that managed to leave Blackriver outside of a body-bag. They want the men who saw the shit we pulled working for these assholes, and they want to tie those loose ends up.
And they’re going to use the sister of the women they love and the daughter of the man who was a father to them all to get it.
The door behind me opens, and another man steps into my vision. He's wearing the look of a politician, with the expensive-looking suit, his hair slicked back, and even a little American flag pin on his lapel. Who the fuck is this guy?
Benson shakes his hand before turning back to me with a shark-grin on his face; “I guess you two have never actually met, but Javier, I'd like you to meet Agent Koufax of the C.I.A.”
Oh, fuck. Agent Koufax; the Agent Koufax, the man Chelsea's been in contact with. The man pulling the strings the entire fucking time. My heart starts to drop in my chest then, my guts twisting as the reality of the situation sinks in like hot lead on my skin. They've stacked the deck on this one; this is a losing fight.
“So, I'm going to ask you one more time, Toro,” Benson leans close, tosses the cigarette away and lets the smoke stream past his lips as his eyes narrow at me; “Whose side are you on?”
26
Chelsea
The lights are harsh and bright when they take the blindfold and the headphones away from me, and I blink and shiver at the sudden flood of senses hitting me again. I'm also cold, which is a feeling I've sort of forgotten after four days of paradise beach weather.
Slowly, my eyes adjust to the bright lights, and it’s then that I gasp and recoil suddenly as the whole nightmarish reality comes rushing back to me.
There are five of them in the room; men with guns in hands and cruel, stoic looks on their faces. I'm still blinking as my eyes dart wildly around the room as the door opens and a man I vaguely recognize walks in.
“Afternoon, Agent.” He grins an evil smile as the look of shock spreads over my face; “Oh, please; don't insult me. Of course I know who you are, Chelsea.” He smirks and pulls a nickel-plated gun from the holster on his hip, running his hands over it while his eyes bore into mine; “Your pals at the C.I.A. aren't nearly as sneaky with secrets as they'd like to think they are.”
I say nothing as I swallow the lump in my throat and try and stop the slow rush of adrenaline threatening to tear through my system.
You've been trained for this, I tell myself, stealing my body and my mind to stay calm and level-headed; It's all meant to throw you off and scare you. Remember your training.
“My name is Benson,” He says, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and sticking one between his lips; “Oh, we've met, Ms. Archer.” He winks at me as he flicks a lighter and brings it up to his mouth. Smoke curls from the cup of his hands before he puffs on the cigarette between his lips and turns his eyes back on me; “I believe you shot at me, back in Aruba.”
The man behind the bar, the night I saved Javier.
He grins as the recognition spreads over my face; “Do you know why you're here, Agent?” Benson arches a brow at me, the cigarette dangling from his lips as smoke curls around the wicked gleam in his eyes.
“Money?”
He snorts and starts to chuckle; “Jesus, you two are something else.” He shakes his head; “No, Agent Archer, I'm not after money, but we'll get to that.” His mouth curls into a wicked smile as he nods slowly at me; “You still have no idea how you wound up here, do you?”