73. GRAYSON
73
GRAYSON
My heart stopped for a moment, trying to gauge what he’d meant by that. Was it a threat? Did he really have my family in his sights, or was it merely a tactic to throw me off my game?
I clenched my teeth and swept my gaze over to Vosch’s ugly face. Based on the yellowing of his teeth, the guy had been too busy committing crimes to visit a dentist for the last decade.
“If you expected me to not make a move to protect my family, then you didn’t do your due diligence on me thoroughly enough.”
I kept my face neutral, hiding the heart lodged in my throat.
“You had very specific instructions.” Vosch looked at his fingernails.
“If it was going to upset you this much, why didn’t you try and stop me?” I challenged.
I was fishing, trying to figure out what he knew or how much of this was a bluff, but infuriatingly, he revealed nothing.
Instead, he said, “If you can’t be trusted to follow those instructions, you can’t be trusted to follow any of them.”
I wanted to press him more, but I had to be smart here. The goal was to eliminate him for good. Only then would my family ever be safe.
“Agree to disagree,” I said. “You needed protocols,” I said. “Protocols that are nearly impossible to obtain, by the way, and I have them. If taking steps to protect my family makes me untrustworthy, then I agree. You and I will not be able to work together.”
Vosch’s dark eyes snapped to mine.
When I had been preparing for this meeting, it was imperative to put myself in the mindset of someone who was about to work with Vosch. What would I say? What would I demand? Vosch would have done his research on me, and he would know that I would not be someone that would roll over easily. Nor would I be someone that would allow Vosch to bully me.
I was an assassin, for God’s sake. Someone who worked with death on a daily basis. His threats wouldn’t have the same effect on me that they would on, say, a typical civilian. And as such, I had to keep my cover in line with those expectations.
“I should warn you.” I kept my voice low, cool. “I don’t take too kindly to people threatening my loved ones.” I paused, letting that sink into his murderous head. “So, if we’re going to work together, you’ll leave my family out of this.”
Vosch’s lips curled up slightly in the corner. The asshole was even uglier when he smiled.
“You think you’re calling the shots, Grayson Lockwood?”
“I’m telling you my terms.”
“Your terms.”
“If you don’t like them, you can go ahead and kill me,” I said. “But good luck finding someone else that can get you the confidential information that’s classified.”
I kept my breathing even; men like Vosch looked for any telltale signs of weakness. Trembles, swallowing, you name it. I kept my body hard, unblinking as I entered what felt like a staring competition.
“Without your family in the country to suffer the consequences of your betrayal, you cannot be properly motivated.”
So, he didn’t have them. Thank God.
His arm was only four feet away. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, so I would have to scratch the top of his hand, but his soldiers circled us like vultures, staring at us like we were in a fishbowl—watching my every move. If I even jerked, they might start firing before I could even touch him.
If they shot me, that’d be one thing. But flying bullets with people around…would be a bloodbath.
Patience, Grayson.
“That’s what you will never understand,” I said, keeping my voice exasperated on purpose. “I’m on the inside, so I guess I see what you don’t—this is a chess game, and you’ve won. You’ve already infiltrated a leader at the CIA at least once; you’ve probably infiltrated the police and FBI, too. The United States has failed to stop you countless times, and now that they’re dealing with the shit show aftermath of Daniel, they’re running around the boat, trying to see where else it might be leaking, all while pointing fingers at each other. They’re too busy fighting with themselves to take you down.”
I swiped my thumb along my lower lip.
“I’m not going to die to protect a lost cause,” I added. “The reality is, you’re going to be successful with or without me, so if passing along some intelligence to you keeps me alive, so be it.”
Vosch evaluated me. “You expect me to believe you would turn on your country that quickly?”
“Quickly?” I balked. “You killed my mentor. Infiltrated my organization. If you have other options on the table, I’m all ears,” I added. “Not to mention, you put a gun to my head. What choice do I have?”
“You could be working with them.”
I smiled and shook my head. “That’s the risk you play when you try to get internal agents, Vosch. Of course, any one of us could be trying to play you at any time. If you don’t want that risk, I suggest you look elsewhere for your information.”
Vosch’s jaw ticced. “You have the information I asked for?” His voice was a low growl, laced with lingering skepticism.
I met his gaze unflinchingly, knowing that while I hadn’t fully won his trust, I had carved out a foothold in his world of paranoia and power.
Tension crackled between us, a palpable cloud of mistrust. I made a show of scanning the area, my eyes darting cautiously, like I was paranoid of being caught. Then, I slowly reached into my back pocket and handed him a folded piece of paper.
When he retrieved it, his hand came within inches of my watch, but he snapped the paper away too quickly for me to make my move.
Goddammit.
“Next time, you should ask for it digitally,” I chided.
Vosch glowered at me, then opened the paper. Scanned it. And handed it to one of his minions.
“Cross-reference this. See if it’s accurate.”
I knew it. He already had this intelligence. This was nothing more than a test, and I could only pray that the CIA hadn’t pushed the button yet to change the protocols; if these didn’t match the current ones in place, it was game over.
The CIA would have to move their protocols to a new network, too, and sweep for informants, but we’d all have to worry about that after this meeting. Right now, Vosch slouched back in his seat, like planning a mass murder was of no significance to him.
“Are we done?” I kept my tone half worried and half urgent. You know, the tone of someone that wanted to get out of here. Not the tone of someone who was about to carry out a termination.
He said nothing.
“I’ve given you what you want, so I’d like to leave,” I lied.
He smirked. “That’s not happening.”
“Meaning what?” What was his plan, to hold me hostage?
He looked at his watch. “You needn’t concern yourself with it.”
“Bullshit. In case you didn’t catch it the first time, I’m not some random civilian that will roll over to your every command. The only way this is going to work is if you’re straight with me.”
“Trying to get intelligence?”
I rolled my eyes. “Jesus, how do you operate the biggest criminal enterprise with this much paranoia?”
“It was a nice little speech you gave. Maybe it’s true.” Vosch raised his bushy eyebrows. “But I base trust off of actions. Took me over a year to trust Daniel.”
Great. I was under no delusion that I would win Vosch’s complete trust, but I didn’t need his complete trust. All I needed was for him to let down his guard enough for me to scratch him.
“Fine, don’t trust me; I don’t give a shit. But I delivered what I promised, so unless you have something else for me, I’m going to leave.”
His minions stepped forward in unison.
“You’ll leave when I say you can leave.” Vosch picked a piece of lint off his pants.
“And when will that be?” I demanded.
“Why are you in such a rush?”
“I betrayed my country. Every minute that I sit with you is a minute where I could be caught.”
Vosch seemed to consider my words, and though the change to his features was subtle, I could tell that I was playing my part well. What person in my position wouldn’t be urgent to get out of here? After all, an assassin who was about to kill him would be finding excuses to stay, not leave.
Vosch looked at his watch. Again . A Patek Philippe, naturally.
“We can leave,” he said, rising to his feet.
Shit. I didn’t expect him to call my bluff, and for a second, I thought he was actually letting me go, but when I rose to my feet, his minions surrounded me.
“Time to board,” Vosch said.
Ice shot through my limbs. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You and I have a train to catch.”
I swallowed, my eyes assessing the men surrounding me, all of them armed, all of them watching for any sign of noncompliance.
“You never said anything about a train.”
“Perhaps it’s time to educate you on how I handle business,” Vosch said condescendingly. “I tell you to board a train, you board the fucking train.”
No. This couldn’t happen.
If we boarded a train, there would be no way for me to escape his associates once I delivered the toxin. Not to mention, the space was even more enclosed, trapping innocent civilians with no way out if guns started firing.
“I’m not getting on a train,” I said.
But Vosch was already walking, unconcerned with my defiance.
To my horror, two of his men grabbed my elbows. Evidently, they didn’t care if we created a scene. But worse, as they shoved me forward and I tried to jerk away from their hold, my watch came dangerously close to hitting the man to my left.
I couldn’t jerk my arms away without taking him out.
Maybe that was the right move. Take them out, get myself out of this alive, and come up with an alternative plan.
When I looked around for any security guards, I spotted the CIA operatives, cornered by two of Vosch’s men who’d crossed the distance to them quickly. And now, at least thirty small children would be in the crosshairs of bullets if Vosch’s men chose to fire after me. Even the platform in front of us that led us to the train was crowded with people.
The sickening realization hit me like an arrow to a nerve: There was no clean escape. Any resistance would turn this bustling station into a killing field.
So, no. There was only one way forward. Onto that train, trapped with the most dangerous man in the world, with no way out.