Say No More Page 17

  “You seem bitter,” Axel said, smiling for the first time.

  “For a married man, you’re not a very good judge of women’s moods,” she said.

  “I haven’t been married for a couple of years,” he countered. “I’m out of practice.”

  The rest of the flight was spent scrutinizing her life and cases, and by the time they landed, they still didn’t seem to be convinced that she wasn’t a threat to The Gravediggers. But her problems seemed minuscule compared to Dante’s. When the door opened and they descended down the stairs, there were two other men waiting for them.

  She recognized the look of those who’d made a life in special ops. But something she’d observed about The Gravediggers was that they had even more of an edge than the agents she normally worked with. Even Dante had hardened since she’d worked with him last. They were skilled and deadly. It was in the way they moved. In the calluses on their hands and the hard ridges of muscle. Being surrounded by them was like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

  But it was Dante who was in the middle. And no one was focused on her. She took a step back. And then another, gauging what kind of chance she would have if she made a run for it.

  “I didn’t know you’d be meeting us at the airport,” Dante said, greeting the other two men. “I must be in trouble to pull Deacon away from his pregnant wife and Elias away from his wedding plans.”

  “You son of a bitch,” one of the men said.

  “Elias,” the other said, but didn’t seem too worked up over the outburst.

  And then her mouth dropped open as the one called Elias started swinging. His right hook caught Dante in the jaw and snapped his head back, and the follow up with his left hit him square in the middle, doubling him over. She winced in sympathy and then saw her chance.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Levi said, his fingers squeezing around her upper arm.

  She looked at his hand and then looked up at his face. “You’re going to want to get your hand off me,” she said. And then she kneed him in the balls.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Last Stop, Texas

  Dante sat at the head of the conference table at HQ and let the storm rage around him. Words flew swiftly—accusations and questions—and it was all done at top volume. He figured they deserved to have their say, so he stayed quiet until they actually wanted him to start answering their questions. His jaw and ribs throbbed where Elias had hit him, and he was cursing Eve for putting him in this position.

  The important thing was that the team seemed satisfied that Liv was legitimate and not a threat to The Gravediggers. But that didn’t mean they were going to let her go easily. There were consequences to what he’d done—to telling her as much information as he had—and it was different with Liv than it had been when Tess and Miller were apprised of the operation. Liv was a trained agent for another organization. And she could become a potential threat.

  He almost preferred the silent treatment he’d received on the flight home from Dubai. Now that they were back in Texas and on familiar ground, there was nothing but words. Even Tess and Miller sat next to their men in solidarity, looking at Dante as if he’d grown a second head. Liv sat stiffly to his right, but it was very clear she wasn’t sitting beside him out of solidarity. It had simply been the only chair left at the table.

  Deacon was the exception. He sat there stoically, holding his wife’s hand and gazing at Dante as if he could see every thought inside his head. It was disconcerting. Deacon just let the others rage around him—the quiet in the storm—and let out their anger, shock, and, in a way, grief.

  Dante guessed it was a kind of grieving to know that someone you risked your life for on a daily basis wasn’t who he said he was. Couldn’t be trusted.

  A pang of remorse knifed through him so sharply he flinched, and his hands bunched beneath the table. He’d never truly worked as part of a team before The Gravediggers, and in all honesty, he hadn’t been thrilled with the idea when Eve had brought him on board. But he’d grown close to these men over the last two years. He knew them as well as he knew himself. And he would die to protect any of them—and they would do the same for him. Or, at least, they would have before he’d deceived them.

  He looked at Liv, sitting there bravely, not knowing a soul but keeping her chin up with that arrogant pride he’d always admired in her.

  He’d broken something in her spirit. He could see it. Sense it. He’d never done anything but hurt those around him, the ones who loved him the most. The ones he’d never let himself love in return. Maybe it had to do with the fact that his parents had loved their money and status more than their only son. Or maybe it was just because he was fucked-up and wired wrong. But there had to be some kind of redemption for a man like him. Somehow he had to be able to fix what he’d broken.

  Liv was hurting. He could feel the waves coming off her so strongly that it almost doubled him over. She’d said she’d loved him once upon a time. And Liv didn’t say things she didn’t mean. Her words weren’t empty promises.

  Deacon raised his hand; instantly the comments died down, and everyone took their seats. Everyone’s attention was directed at him.

  “I think at this point it’s counterproductive to keep bringing up Dante’s past,” Deacon said. “We’ve all read the deleted files.”

  “I apologize, Dante,” Elaine said. “I know your files were classified, but they found a back door and overrode my authority. I had no choice.”

  “It’s not your fault, Elaine,” Dante said. “I’ve always known there was a chance that my past would come to light.”

  He’d always prided himself on knowing how to act in any situation. Growing up, he’d been taught how to defuse situations, how to use charm to his advantage. He’d done it his entire life. He’d done it to the people sitting around the conference table. Normally he would have sat back in his chair and given them a cocky smile, making it clear that their opinions didn’t matter. That their hurt, concern, and anger didn’t matter. But they did matter, and he couldn’t do that to them anymore. The guilt was eating him up inside.

  “So, what now?” Levi asked. “We’re just supposed to accept that he’s really one of us? We’re supposed to entrust our lives to him? What happens when Eve gives him orders to betray us? Or when we’re on a mission and he finds something he wants more than the target, compromising us all?”

  “I guess those are fair questions,” Dante said. “We all have pasts, Levi. Some of which we might not be proud of. Even you.” Levi stared at him, stony-eyed. The former Mossad agent wasn’t one to be intimidated. “But it’s why we were selected to be Gravediggers. If I hadn’t been Simon Locke, I wouldn’t be sitting here today. But despite my criminality, I never betrayed my country. And I’ve never, and would never, betray you.”

  “You lied to us,” Axel said.

  “And you’ve told us everything about your past, have you?” Dante countered. “The point is that I’m here, and I’ve remained here, despite the fact that I would do just fine contracting for solo missions. Maybe I didn’t come here originally with the attitude of accepting you all as a team. Of being part of a team. But you can’t train with each other the way we do and not embrace the brotherhood that forms with it.”

  “Are you loyal to us?” Deacon asked.

  “I am,” Dante answered.

  “Then the topic of conversation needs to be about Eve.”

  “Excuse me for interrupting this heartwarming moment,” Liv said, “but I don’t know any of you, I don’t trust any of you, and as we speak there are ten little girls who are on the verge of being sold into sexual slavery. I’d prefer to leave you to whatever you’re up to and go do something important.”

  “We appreciate your cooperation, Agent Rothschild,” Deacon said.

  Liv snorted at that and said, “But you’re not going to let me leave.”

  “I’m sorry, but no. You’ve been introduced to a lot of classified information, including knowledge about
us as agents, one of whom you knew in his former life. That puts our lives at risk, and we have to evaluate the situation fully before you can be released.”

  Liv narrowed her eyes. “And if you don’t like what you find?” she asked.

  “Then measures must be taken to assure our safety and our secrets.”

  “Threatening me isn’t going to make me fall into line,” she said. “In the end, I’ll do what I think is right, and the rest of you can go straight to hell.”

  “I like her,” Miller whispered to Tess, and got a nudge in the ribs.

  “If you’ll give us a chance,” Deacon said, “you might find that we’re all on the same side. We can help you, and maybe you can help us. And those girls can go home to their families.”

  Relief coursed through Dante when he saw Liv pause, thinking it through. Her shoulders relaxed. She’d already seen firsthand some of the resources at their fingertips. Her chances of finding those girls with The Gravediggers were greater than if she worked with Interpol or on her own.

  “You leave me no choice,” she said.

  “There’s always a choice,” Deacon said. “But you don’t always get to like it.”

  The door to HQ opened, and instantly the men at the table were on their feet and had weapons drawn, ready to neutralize the intruder. Eve walked straight into the fray, unconcerned about the weapons pointed in her direction, and strode to the head of the conference table.

  “I guess it’s pointless to ask how you made it past the cameras and through all of the security checkpoints without us being alerted,” Deacon said, lowering his gun.

  Eve wore one of her black suits, the pencil skirt coming to the knee and her jacket tailored and buttoned, the shell beneath it also black. Her lips were slicked her favorite shade of red, and a pair of decorative chopsticks held her hair up. If Dante had to guess, he’d say they were lethally sharp and meant to be an extra weapon instead of a hair adornment.

  “You’ve all certainly made a clusterfuck of things,” she said by way of greeting. “Everyone be seated.”

  “We’ve made a clusterfuck of things?” Elias asked, his temper obviously still raw after his confrontation with Dante. “You’ve lied to us just as he has. Why should we continue to trust you and put our lives on the line when you’d just stab us in the back?”

  “You should be a seasoned enough agent to know never to trust anyone,” she said coldly. “My job isn’t to placate you. It’s to use each of you however I see fit to get missions accomplished. I recruited Dante because of his skills as a thief, which have been useful on several occasions up to this point. Obviously, this time he failed.”

  “Or maybe your intel failed,” Dante said. “The launch codes were gone by the time I got there.”

  “Maybe you should have gotten there sooner,” she said. “Maybe if you’d retrieved the launch codes before your commission, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

  “Or maybe you knew all along that you were setting me up for failure for whatever long-term purpose you’ve concocted in that deceptive brain of yours.”

  “Don’t forget how well I know you,” she said. “I remember your fascination with Ms. Rothschild. I wondered if you’d fumble if you ran into her sister. Maybe someday you’ll start thinking with the head attached to your neck instead of the one in your pants. If you think I don’t have plans B, C, and D already in place, then maybe I made a mistake bringing you on in the first place.

  “The mission was to obtain those launch codes, however necessary. Ms. Rothschild was not expected to gum up the works by trying to intercept the Russian girls before Raj Mittal had a chance to move them. We didn’t expect him to move them for a couple more days. When he brought them back from Russia, Mittal stashed them in his son’s vault and then flew to Shanghai for three days for business, but we believe once he got word of what his son had in his possession, he decided to come back and collect the girls and the launch codes early.”

  “I’m sorry,” Liv said, her voice cold as ice. “Are you telling me you’ve had knowledge all along that Raj Mittal had these girls, and nothing was done about it?”

  “Ms. Rothschild,” Eve said, “we’re not Interpol. Our job is to save the world. It’s about prioritizing and staying focused. We leave those tasks to other agencies.”

  “My sister?” she asked. The fury in her voice was unmistakable. “Did you know she was there?”

  “She came on the radar once Shiv Mittal took possession of the launch codes.”

  Liv tensed to stand, ready to face off with Eve, but Dante put his hand on her shoulder. She didn’t realize how much danger she was in. Eve had no allegiance to Liv.

  Liv’s head snapped around to look at Dante, and the message couldn’t have been clearer: Get. Your. Hand. Off.

  “Take Dante’s advice and stay seated,” Eve said. “Your safety is not guaranteed. You’re sitting at this table and not in one of the cells in the back room ready to be administered memory serums only because of my grace. But I can easily change my mind. Would anyone miss you if you were gone, Ms. Rothschild?”

  “Enough, Eve,” Dante said. “I think we’re all past the point of navigating your games and threats.”

  Her gaze lasered on Dante, and he felt a chill go down his spine. Dying would be a relief if that’s what Eve decided she wanted; it was the manner of death she chose that would make dying seem like an eternity.

  “You don’t want to push, Dante,” she said. “I’ve given you more leeway than most. Less rein. But my patience is at its limit.”

  He opened his mouth, another scathing retort on his lips, but Deacon said, “Dante, think it through. Let’s hear all the information and then decide what we’re going to do.”

  “You make it sound like you have a choice,” Eve said, turning her focus to the team leader.

  “We all have choices, Eve,” Deacon said evenly. “Everyone’s tempers are up and tension is high. I suggest we move forward with the mission before things escalate out of control.”

  She smiled again, and Dante watched as his brothers moved subtly in their chairs, the tension so thick he wondered if any of them would make it out of the room alive.

  “Let me make myself clear,” Eve said. She never raised her voice. “Because you each seem to believe you have freedom because I’ve allowed you to bring in outsiders. But remember your contract. And remember the consequences of breaking that contract. I own each of you for seven years. But if you think I won’t hesitate to start over with a new team, then you all need a reality check. Your duty is to the organization, and to the world. Your loyalty is to Trident, whether you like it or not.

  “Elaine,” she said.

  “Yes, Agent Winter?” Elaine said.

  “Display photographs 247-A, 247-B, and 247-C.”

  Photographs appeared on the wall screens in front of them, and it took Dante a moment to understand what he was looking at. Both Miller and Tess gasped, and Miller pushed herself back from the table, rose, and went into the kitchen to escape.

  “You remember Colin?” Eve said. “I thought at the time he was a good recruit, but he never really fit with the team the way I’d planned.”

  Colin Moreau had come to The Gravediggers months after Dante had. Dante and the others had dug him up from the ground and injected him with the serum of life to bring him back to the world of the living and his new circumstances. Then, several months ago, Colin had been hurt during a mission; Tess had saved his life, and The Shadow had whisked him away to get the medical care he needed. But he’d never returned, and no explanation had ever been given as to why.

  “Of course,” Eve said, “a Gravedigger who is forcibly retired can’t go back into the world. He is already dead. We, of course, gave him the option of having his memories wiped clean and a new identity implanted.”

  The first photo on the left showed Colin strapped to a table with an IV in his arm, an IV bag of memory serum dripping into the line. His back was arched up from the met
al table, and he was biting down on a leather strap.

  Dante had never experienced the memory serum, but he’d heard it was excruciatingly painful. Colin’s picture proved that.

  “The problem with men with your specific qualifications,” Eve continued, “is that your minds are strong. You’ve been trained to withstand torture. You’re not easy to break, and the memory serum causes the mind to think that the body is experiencing torture, so it takes more doses of serum to reprogram the mind. Unfortunately, Colin’s brain never made the necessary adjustments. This kind of mental and physical strength was, of course, fascinating to Trident’s R&D team, so they decided more experiments were needed.”

  The second photo showed two scientists leaning over Colin, sharp implements in their hands as they tested the limits of his resistance and mental strength. In the third photo, the scientists were gone, but Colin’s body was flayed open like a frog on a dissection table, his eyes open and empty in death.

  “Take them down,” Elias said. “You’ve made your point. The sooner you brief us on the new mission, the sooner you can go back to ruining other people’s lives.”

  “Is that what you think I do?” she asked.

  The pictures disappeared from the screen, and Miller came back into the room with a bottle of water.

  “I think you’re a monster,” Miller said. “I think you’ve been living this life for so long that you’re no longer human. You have no empathy or compassion. And it will eventually be your downfall. We’re not designed to live like that. Someone will eventually kill you, or you’ll kill yourself.”

  “Interesting analysis from a romance writer,” Eve said. “But I’ll let it pass because you’re obviously too emotional. You don’t know anything about me, Ms. Darling. But if someone like me didn’t make the hard decisions, then no one ever would.”

  Miller took her seat, and Elias pulled her chair close and put his arm around her. Dante had noticed that Liv’s posture had stiffened when Colin’s photos came up on the screens, but she’d made herself look. The color had drained from her face, but she’d never flinched.