The B-Team (Benson Security)

Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

The basement was deadly silent, the air thick with tension and expectation. Fight-or-flight had been triggered. And Ryan knew the choice would fall heavily on the side of fight if the atmosphere ignited.

The officers spread out around the room, blocking exits and ensuring they corralled everyone present. There was a murmur at the stairwell, and the sea of police uniforms parted to allow a man to emerge. He was average height, thin and pinched, with that air of entitlement you only ever find in rich, white guys. The insignia on his uniform, along with his attitude, signaled he was in charge. He scanned the room before settling on Lake Benson with smug satisfaction.

“Garry.” Lake gave him a chin lift. “Been a long time.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “It’s Commander Garrison Fitzwater of the Metropolitan Police’s Special and Organized Crimes Division.”

“Tessa’s replacement?” Callum’s brow furrowed.

Beside Ryan, Elle tensed, and he put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. During their investigation into Elle’s estranged family, the James Gang, they’d discovered the former special crimes commander was taking bribes to look the other way. It’d caused a scandal and bad press for the police—most of it generated by Rachel, who’d made it her mission to destroy Tessa’s life. Now, it appeared the cops had been holding a grudge.

“What’s going on?” Lake sounded reasonable.

A cold facsimile of a smile curved the commander’s lips. “You and your staff are being taken in for questioning, pending charges.” He pointed upward to the offices above. “Your files and computers are being seized as we speak. Your empire has come to an end. Benson Security is finished.”

Elle shifted slightly, and Ryan glanced down to see she’d pulled her phone out of her pocket. She texted, one-handed, out of sight of the cops. A second later, his phone pinged as similar noises sounded around the room. Moving slowly to avoid attracting attention, he read her message: Put your phones into liquid. NOW!

A ripple of movement ran through the Benson Security team as, one by one, they quietly dunked their phones into the nearest drink. Their actions didn’t go unnoticed.

“Get their phones,” Commander Fitzwater snapped. “Quick!”

The cop nearest Ryan lunged at him but wasn’t fast enough. Ryan dumped his phone into the full glass of water beside his empty pastry plate. Elle’s joined it a second later. He watched as Isobel calmly took Callum’s phone from him and tossed both of theirs to Megan, who dunked them into the jug of water on her table. Lake, meanwhile, slipped his phone out of his pocket, dropped it to the floor, and crushed it with the heel of his boot.

That left Rachel.

“She’ll never give up her iPhone,” Ryan whispered to Elle. “It’s surgically attached to her hand.”

A police officer stepped up to Rachel and held out her hand for the phone.

“No,” Rachel said. “This phone is the property of TayFor Pharmaceuticals. It is not the property of Benson Security. In addition to being a business partner at Benson Security, I’m CEO of TayFor. There is proprietary information on this phone, and I will not hand it over. And”—she turned her cold stare on the commander—“I’m sure your warrant doesn’t cover property owned by TayFor, does it, Mr. Fitzwater?”

The commander’s cheeks flushed as his eyes darkened. “ Commander Fitzwater.”

“Whatever.” Rachel waved a dismissive hand, still holding her phone. “Touch my phone, and I shall unleash my company’s lawyers. They’ve been bored lately and will jump at the opportunity to sue you—and the Metropolitan Police—for everything you own.” She smiled, making it clear that the commander wasn’t the only predator in the room. “As CEO, I’m happy for those lawsuits to be their sole focus for years to come. I wonder if the tabloids will be interested in the story or if it will remain purely in the business press. I guess we’ll have to find out.”

“There are days when I love that woman,” Elle said with awe.

“You don’t intimidate me, Ms. Ford-Talbot. Your family isn’t the only one with connections in high places.”

Rachel was unimpressed. “Ah, you’re those Fitzwaters.” She shrugged. “It won’t make any difference to my lawyers.”

There seemed to be a silent standoff as Rachel and Fitzwater glared at each other.

“Do you think they’re communicating with some high-class telepathy that only works if you’re related to the royal family?” Elle murmured.

Beside them, a cop snorted before quickly donning a blank expression.

“Um, sir?” A male police officer spoke up. “They’ve all dunked their phones in water, or tea, or some other drink. What do you want us to do?”

Reluctantly, the commander tore his gaze from Rachel’s. “Gather all of them. They’ll dry out.”

“Eventually,” Elle whispered gleefully.

“And Ms. Ford-Talbot’s phone?” the man asked somewhat anxiously.

“She can keep it.” The commander practically spat out the words. “For now.”

Rachel didn’t gloat. Instead, she turned her attention to her phone and started tapping on the screen.

“I really hope she’s messaging for help instead of checking the status of her latest Harrods order,” Ryan muttered.

“What charges are you investigating exactly?” Lake Benson asked.

In a room filled with tension, he appeared perfectly relaxed. Guess that’s why he was the boss.

Commander Fitzwater could barely contain his joy. “Firearms offenses, cybercrimes, public endangerment, assault, and terrorism—to name a few highlights.”

Lake’s lips thinned, but his eyes never left the commander. “Rachel, if you’re contacting our lawyers, please tell them what charges are being investigated.” He cocked an eyebrow at the police commander. “What evidence do you have of terrorism?”

The commander scanned the room until his gaze landed on Elle. “Hacking sanctioned and ordered by Benson Security. It appears Ms. Roberts has been manipulating government databases. That qualifies as terrorism. As does public endangerment, harboring wanted criminals, and moving classified information internationally.”

Elle sucked in a breath, her hands trembling, but she lifted her chin in defiance.

A chair scraped on the floor as her husband stood. He faced the commander with icy disdain. “Her name is Ms. Roberts- Knight , and it would be a good idea for you to show some care before you start throwing accusations around.”

The commander wasn’t impressed. “Are you threatening me? Mr. …?”

“Knight. David Knight,” Elle’s ex-spy husband said. “And no. I’m asking you to ensure that your actions are reasonable and well-thought-out. Because once you start on this course, there’s no going back. You might want to take a second to think things over before you commit. I don’t appreciate people bullying my wife.”

From the look on Fitzwater’s face, he had no intention of taking David’s wise advice. “Round up all Benson Security employees and take them to the custody suites. I want Benson and the other owners taken to Chelsea, along with any higher-ranking staff. Everyone else can be taken to the overflow center.”

“We don’t have ranks,” Callum snapped. “No matter how hard I’ve tried to institute them.”

“My officers have a list of the people I’d most like to question. We’ll start with those.” Fitzwater dismissed Callum and turned back to Lake. “You’ve played fast and loose with the law for too long. You act like it doesn’t apply to you or your company. Well, today is your day of reckoning. Today, you answer for your crimes.” He glanced at one of his officers. “Get them out of here.”

“Wait a minute,” Callum bellowed. “My wife isn’t a security specialist. She’s the receptionist, and we have children who are too young to be left alone. Surely you don’t mean to round up the admin staff too?”

Isobel nodded furiously. “All I do is answer the phones and point people in the direction of Callum’s office. I don’t get to play with any weapons, and I don’t know how to hack.”

Fitzwater considered her for a moment. “You may stay. I’m solely concerned with the security specialists.”

Evan shot to his feet, panic wafting from him. “You don’t want us either.” He gestured to his brothers. “We cut a deal with MI5 that gives us a get-out-of-jail-free card.”

“Well, we’re not MI5,” Fitzwater snapped. “We’re the Met.” He nodded to his officers. “If they’re security specialists, take them. And don’t forget to search everyone for weapons.”

Elle curved a hand around Ryan’s knee. “You stay,” she hissed.

He nodded once.

“Do not touch me.” Violet Lee’s voice rose above the rumble of noise in the room. “Or my gun.”

In the center of the basement, the diminutive former cop faced off against two officers. Ryan mentally placed a bet on Violet. He’d seen her fight. It was nasty.

“Bloody hell, Violet,” Callum exploded. “Why did you bring a gun to the conference? Never mind. I don’t want to know. Just give the nice officer your weapon and try not to make this any worse.”

Reluctantly, and with a whole lot of menace, Violet handed over her gun. “If it gets so much as a scratch, I will find you.”

“Get off!” Megan snapped, drawing attention away from Violet. “I can get the weapons myself.”

Callum slapped a palm to his forehead. “It’s always those two.” He looked at the boss of the American office. “I’m glad one of them is your problem now. If you want to take on Megan too, let me know.”

Rochelle Davis didn’t appear amused. Apparently, unlike the rest of them, the American team didn’t make jokes under stress.

Megan, meanwhile, perched a foot on the seat of her chair and rolled up her leather pants to reveal a two-knife sheath strapped to her ankle. One of the cops reached for the sheath before she managed to get it off.

Dimitri shot out a hand to stop him. “Please don’t fondle my wife. She doesn’t like strangers touching her. And she bites.”

With obvious irritation, Megan slapped the knife sheath into the cop’s hand before reaching into the small of her back and pulling out a tiny gun. “I would very much like to shoot someone right now,” she said pleasantly.

“Amen, sister,” Violet said.

Over at the door, the officers started to herd the Benson Security team into the stairwell.

“I know you.” Fitzwater grabbed hold of Abasi Otieno’s arm as he passed. “You used to run with the James Gang. You’re exactly the kind of low-life scum I expected to find working for Benson Security. This company is nothing more than organized crime disguised as a legitimate business.”

Abasi slowly looked down at where the commander held his arm. That was all he did, yet the tension in the room ratcheted up several notches.

“This isn’t good.” Ryan nudged Elle. “He’s going to blow. Do something.”

“Abasi,” Elle called to him, “my brother will haunt you if you let the cops get to you.”

The reminder of his best friend was enough to make Abasi tear his gaze from the commander’s hold. He shrugged out of the man’s grip and looked over his shoulder at Elle, completely dismissing the police commander. “Wouldn’t want that. Don’t worry about me, little sis. I’ve handled worse.”

His boss, Rochelle, elbowed her way through the crowd. Tall, regal, and deadly, she clearly wasn’t intimidated by anyone.

“I’m a former FBI agent and currently in charge of the American office. Abasi is a member of my team. We’ve only been in the UK for a few days; we have nothing to do with your investigation. I would appreciate it if you’d allow us to leave this building and return to the States.”

Fitzwater sneered at her. “This is an investigation into all of Benson Security.”

Rochelle didn’t move an inch. “Last I checked, America wasn’t under your jurisdiction. Even if you suspect we’ve broken the law, you are obligated to hand us over to the American authorities.”

“Yes.” Fitzwater oozed oil. “But we do have the right to question you before doing so.” He signaled to an officer. “Take all active security specialists into custody, regardless of which office they work out of.”

A muscle pulsed in Rochelle’s jaw. “Just so you know, my phone call will be to the American Embassy.”

“You have the right to call whomever you choose.” Fitzwater turned his back on her.

“Come on.” Rodrigo De la Cruz, another member of the American team, joined his boss. “We’ll sort it out later.”

With a terse nod, Rochelle started to climb the stairs out of the basement.

“Well,” Ryan said with some relief. “At least Abasi didn’t blow.” There was no telling what the former mobster would’ve done if he had.

When the police officers moved toward Ryan and Elle, he held up his hands. “I don’t work for Benson Security. I’m a writer doing research for my next book. If you want, I can give you my publisher’s number to prove it.”

“It’s true,” Elle said. “They gave him a really big advance to write a crime novel about the people trapped in the Paris Catacombs by that serial killer last summer.”

Recognition lit up the cop’s eyes as he studied Ryan. “You were one of them, weren’t you? I saw you on the news. If I remember right, you haven’t worked for Benson Security for years. Injured out or something.”

“Got shot in the head.” Ryan lifted his hair at the temple to show the scar.

The cop winced. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

“Tell me about it. So, do you have to take me too?”

The cop glanced around. “No. I reckon we have more than enough people to fill our cells.” He smiled. “Good luck with the book.” He gave Elle a look of sympathy. “I’m afraid you do have to come with us.”

“Yeah, I figured. Seeing as the big boss singled me out and all.”

Ryan squeezed her hand. “What do you want me to do?”

“Get us out,” she said. “Don’t worry about the office computers; everything’s stored on a remote server now, and that thing’s titanium. They can dig all they like, but they won’t find anything useful. Just do whatever you have to do to end this mess.”

“I promise.” He gave her hand one last squeeze before the officer led her away.

“Where’s Julia Barone?” Fitzwater shouted. “I understand she’s the office manager. I want to speak to her.”

Joe sauntered across the room, an amicable smile on his face. “My wife is on bed rest. She’s nine months pregnant. You go anywhere near her, and I’ll rip your head off.” He spoke in such a genial tone that it took a second to realize he’d threatened the commander. Before Fitzwater could answer, Joe raised his voice: “Rachel, did you message Julia?”

“It’s already taken care of, her sister won’t let anyone in,” came the calm reply.

Joe visibly relaxed.

Fitzwater narrowed his eyes at Joe. “Let’s add obstruction charges to the mix, shall we?”

“Add whatever the hell you like, Fitz,” Joe drawled in his New Jersey accent. “None of them are gonna matter when this all comes out in the wash.”

Noah Merchant, one of Joe’s oldest friends and a member of the American team, pushed his way between Joe and the commander. He grabbed Joe’s arm and hauled him toward the stairs. When they reached them, he turned and caught Ryan’s eye. There was a question in his expression.

Ryan gave him a chin lift in reply. Universal guy language for I’ve got this. Don’t worry.

As Joe’s other childhood friend, Grunt, the mountain of a man who’d married Megan’s sister, passed Fitzwater, he growled low in his throat. The commander paled and took a step back. Satisfied, Grunt followed his friends out of the basement.

“That man is not a friendly giant,” Ryan muttered to himself.

As he watched them drag his friends and family from the room, he made a mental list of who he had to call to fix things. Unfortunately, most of the people on that list were currently being loaded into police vans outside.

It took only a few minutes to clear the basement. Then, all that remained was a lot of empty tables, some spilled mugs of tea, and a stunned-looking Isobel. Her big green eyes met his.

“What are we going to do?” she asked.

A police officer stuck her head around the door. “I’m sorry,” she said. “You can’t stay here. This building is off-limits while we go through it.”

Ryan nodded to her before turning back to Isobel. “I guess we find a babysitter for your kids, and I call my wife.”

“And then what?”

A sense of conviction swept through Ryan, and he smiled. “We go see Julia.”

Isobel looked relieved. “Good idea. She’ll know what to do.”

Ryan hoped so because he was fresh out of ideas.