Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
Fourteen hours had passed since Jesse had been tasered that morning outside the plane on the tarmac. Fourteen fucking hours since the asshole-in-charge refused to let Jesse go with Ella. She’d tried to reach for him while agents pulled her away, eyes glassy with tears, and he’d lost control. He’d wound up on the ground next to Griffin, who’d been taken down moments before when the French ripped Savanna from his arms as well.
They’d both been incapacitated for what felt like for-fucking-ever, unable to move after the barbed darts ripped through the back of their shirts and punctured skin while delivering a high-voltage payload. He’d gritted his teeth and ridden out the painful sensations that traveled through his limbs at supersonic speed while he watched Ella, Savanna, and Sydney escorted into a blacked-out government SUV. That moment had been a special kind of torture, and it had nothing to do with the brain-scrambling taser.
“They’re with the DGSE. They’re fine,” Jack said as if reading Jesse’s thoughts, stopping his pacing long enough to peer over to where Jesse sat on the floor, back to the wall. “We’ll get to them soon.”
It was twenty hundred hours, and Jesse, Jack, Oliver, and Griffin were still stuck together in the tiny room they’d been shoved into immediately after being hustled from the vehicle used to transport them from the airport. There hadn’t been a lot of stop-and-go traffic during the journey that he estimated was a good forty-five minutes, which told Jesse they were outside the city limits. But the hoods yanked over their heads had made it impossible to know for sure. He wouldn’t be all that surprised if they were at a DGSE interrogation site instead of their headquarters.
“The women are somewhere in this house. I think it’s a house, at least,” Jack added.
“Feels house-like,” Oliver remarked, and Jesse peered around the room, having already memorized every square inch of the small space.
Boarded-up windows. Floral wallpaper yellowed with age and peeling in spots. Horizontal ticks next to one of the doors with what looked like dates next to them. All signs indicated this had once been a child’s room.
There was an attached bathroom with only a toilet to take a piss in and a freestanding sink to wash their hands.
No furniture, so the guys had spent most of the day sitting on the dirty shag carpet with their backs to the wall.
“Well, it’s house-like, aside from the steel door in here, of course,” Oliver said, his gaze cutting to the boards on the windows the guys had tried to remove at one point earlier in the day. “Would you stop pacing? And maybe stop bouncing the ball against the wall?” he asked Jack.
The only thing that’d been in the room was a ratty tennis ball, which Griffin had decided was there to fuck with them since Jack had bounced it against the wall all day.
As much as Jesse felt the need to pace right alongside Jack, he knew he’d wind up testing out how his fist would fare in a matchup with the wall if he did.
“I think better when I’m moving.” Jack threw the ball, but Griffin sprang to his feet and caught it in his hands before it could bounce against the ratty wallpaper. He let out an irritated growl, and Jack held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, Hulk. You can have it.”
Griffin held the ball tight in his fist and sat again, his shoulders sagging with relief that the bounce-bouncing had ceased. He was as on edge as Jesse with Savanna taken from him.
“We know why they’re holding Carter in a separate room.” With nothing to do now, Jack folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “The woman in red wants him.” He seemed to be the most level-headed of the four men at the moment. Maybe it was an act, or maybe he was really that confident that Gray’s connections would get them out of this mess.
But why would Thatcher put me here in the first place? They hadn’t done too much theorizing aloud, assuming they were being watched and listened to, though Jesse didn’t see a camera.
“They knew who we were before we landed. They seemed to be expecting the women to be on board with us too. And the way they whisked Gray away like he was a prince and deserved special treatment seemed intentional as well,” Oliver noted. “Defense Secretary for a dad with POTUS connections. Guess Gray ranks as royalty among our motley crew.”
Motley? Jesse couldn’t help but think back to Thatcher’s words in the workshop the other day. It was January second now, and how many days ago had that been? It was a blur, and the tasing wasn’t the reason for his muddled thoughts.
“We haven’t been questioned. They’re not telling us jack shit—no offense, Jack. Something doesn’t add up,” Oliver said, pulling Jesse’s focus back to the conversation.
“None taken, and that’s because they don’t give a shit about us. Carter’s probably the target,” Jack quickly replied. “Maybe another tit for tat went down without us knowing.”
“Like your old boss offering Carter to the hot MI6 officer in exchange for something?” Oliver suggested. “Something more important than our case?”
Jesse’s heart nearly trampled his rib cage at Oliver’s words. “You think Thatcher used my old case to draw me out just to get Carter overseas and offer him to MI6?” He’d forgotten they were probably being listened to, but he assumed at this point, the French were aware of Thatcher. How could they not be?
“Your unit at the Agency was the third option, right?” Jack looked at Jesse as Jesse slowly stood.
“You overheard me?” Jesse asked, forgetting the topic for a moment.
“We overheard the two of you both times,” Oliver tossed out, and Jesse heard the smile in his tone. “Seems like you guys are either fighting or f—” He cut himself off, wisely choosing not to finish that sentence.
Great, are Ella and I that readable? Jesse set his hands on his hips, realizing he’d lost sight of the issue at hand. “What were you saying again about the third option?”
“You were the pis aller —the last resort. Doing what others wouldn’t was pretty much your job description,” Jack said, pausing for a moment until Jesse met his gaze. “It’s not a stretch to think that your former boss would do whatever necessary, like dangling Ella as bait, to meet his endgame.”
“And we’re caught in the crosshairs,” Oliver said. “Or part of some bigger plan we have yet to be read in on.”
Both were possibilities, but neither was an acceptable reason in Jesse’s mind.
Before Jesse could say more, the door clicked and swung open. Behind an armed guard stood Carter and Gray, but they remained in the hall.
Griffin and Oliver joined Jesse and Jack on their feet.
“You’re free to go,” the guard stated as if that was just fucking that.
“Wait, what?” Jack broke the silence first as the four of them filtered from the room, and when Jesse looked left and right, he was able to confirm they were on the first floor of a house. Nails and empty picture hooks were still on the wall from when a family had once lived there.
“Where’s Ella, the others?” Jesse looked to Gray and Carter for answers, not prepared to move another foot without them.
“They were released not too long ago.” The guard’s vague answer had Jesse wanting to slap an actual number from him, but he resisted. With the women gone, they needed to get on the move.
“Who picked them up? Where are they?” Griffin beat Jesse to the questions.
“That billionaire, Rochella, picked them up.” At least he’d given them a real answer this time, but Jesse wasn’t sure what to make of the news.
“What in the hell is going on?” Jesse murmured as a man with a receding hairline and thick, black-framed glasses that sat too low on his nose approached them.
The suited Frenchman motioned for the guys to follow him, and they walked past a kitchen toward the foyer by the front door. “You’ll find all of your belongings from Mr. Dominick’s plane packed into the three trunks of the Suburbans outside.”
“ All ?” Jack leaned closer to the suited guy as if he were speaking Urdu instead.
“Well, pretty much everything. Your weapons and clothes are there,” the man said, tone rushed and insistent.
“I’m sorry, what? You’re just sending us on our merry little way with our RPGs and blacked-out rifles in your city?” Jack opened his palm, swiping it through the air. “No interrogations. No cavity searches.” He waved his hand again, making the shoo-gesture. “Just off ya go.”
Jesse was either still stunned from having been tased, or just shocked by the news that Ella was somewhere in the city of love with the charming billionaire and possibly in danger without him to have her six, that he remained quiet.
“ Oui , we’re letting you go.” The Frenchman copied Jack’s shoo-motion, then he opened the front door and stepped back.
Jack peered at Gray, then over at Jesse, shooting him an incredulous, Are you kidding me look.
Same page, brother. Same page. But at this point, all that mattered to Jesse was getting to Ella. And they’d need Henry Rochella’s address and phone number ASAP. Also, Jesse’s cell phone better be in one of those SUVs so he could call and confirm she was okay.
“You called your father while they had you, right?” Oliver asked Gray once they stepped outside the home to discover the three SUVs lined up, trunks already open, as promised.
They only had the front lights of the one-story house to work with out there, but it was enough to see their gear in the trunks.
“They wouldn’t let me call him,” Gray grumbled. “They kept me holed up alone. No idea why.”
“You didn’t need to call him for help,” the Frenchman, obviously aware of who Gray’s father was, spoke up. “Out of respect for your father and his relationship to your president, you were kept in a nicer holding room.” He checked his watch like he had to be somewhere important ten minutes ago, which gave Jesse heart palpitations.
A bad sign. He was about to demand answers when Griffin bit out, “So, this really is about Carter, isn’t it?”
“And yet, Mr. Dominick’s going free.” The cryptic bullshit from the man was going to earn him a punch to the face but Jesse couldn’t afford to get locked back up when Ella was out in the city, and Zoran possibly coming for her.
“We need to step on it,” Jesse hissed, his gut guiding him in the only direction he knew to go. The worst-case scenario. Which was that Ella and the others were in danger.
He felt it in his fucking bones, and the Frenchman’s rushed words and glances at his watch were signs that he was right.
The Frenchman tossed Carter a few sets of keys, and Griffin surprised Jesse by lunging toward the guy as if he’d just drawn the same conclusion as Jesse.
Griffin was able to grab a fistful of the guy’s shirt before Gray and Jack reined him in and stopped him from pummeling the man. “If something happens to them?—”
“We gotta go,” Gray urged, at which Griffin hesitantly released his hold on the man.
“Your interests and ours align. We appreciate the listening devices and cameras you installed at Aleksa Stankovi?’s estate, but we’ll be handling Aleksa from here on. You have something more critical to help us out with,” the Frenchman said while brushing his hands down his now rumpled shirt. “ Au revoir . We wish you the best of luck on your mission.” His tone was suddenly somber, and Jesse had the feeling that something crucial was being left out or lost in translation—maybe both—despite the fact they were speaking English, not French.
“We need to gear up before we get to Henry’s. This forced pit stop was to separate us from the women,” Carter said, confirming Jesse’s fears.
But if Thatcher had made the DGSE and MI6 aware of why Jesse and his team were really in Paris, why the dramatics? Why not just let Jesse and his team carry out the job they’d set out to do as planned?
Carter handed Jesse one of the disposable phones they’d brought. “See if they pick up. I have Rochella’s address, it’s less than five minutes away.”
“Wait, what? Five minutes away?” Jesse went still at the news. “We’re that close to his place?”
“Exactly,” was all Carter said, and Jesse got the message. Something was seriously off about this whole damn thing.
“Give me a phone too. I need to talk to Savanna.” Griffin dug into the bag without waiting as Jesse brought the phone to his ear.
“She’s not answering,” Jesse said after three attempts. “Nothing for you either?”
Griffin shook his head and called again. “Nothing.”
This was that shoe dropping. Ella and Savanna were in danger. They were with Sydney, but . . .
“Sydney’s not answering either,” Gray told them, and Jesse was surprised Gray hadn’t been tasered as well when Sydney was pulled away from them that morning. Jesse had noticed that the man had a soft spot for her, and assumed it was from their time together years ago at West Point.
“You think someone at DGSE is feeding Zoran intel to draw him out on their own timetable?” Griffin speculated in a rough voice, mirroring Jesse’s thoughts as he hurriedly holstered a weapon at his back and strapped another to his thigh. “Otherwise, how would Zoran know we were coming to France unless he had someone planted in Bama keeping tabs on Jesse, and they learned about the wedding and Ella’s job offer?”
“And what, the French detained us long enough for word to travel to Zoran and give him time to get to Rochella’s?” Oliver sounded surprised by the idea, but sadly, Jesse wasn’t shocked. This was par for the course when it came to the CIA. “Why not just take Zoran down themselves if they expect him to go after the women? None of this makes sense.”
“It’s not what you think,” Carter spoke up, ending the theorizing. “I’ll explain what I know on the way.”
About damn time. Jesse secured his Beretta M9 to his side and another 9mm at his leg. Then he strapped the sheath containing his favorite stainless steel sawback bladed knife to his other leg. And lastly, he slung the strap of his M4 around his neck. If Ella was hurt in any way, it’d be a bloodbath.
“Shit, all that hard work Sydney did infiltrating Aleksa’s,” Oliver began after digging through one of their bags, but Aleksa was the last thing on Jesse’s mind right now, “and the French took the software.”
“Griffin and I will take the first vehicle. Gray and Jack the second. Jesse and Oliver, you’re in the third.” Carter shut the trunks as soon as everyone had their gear. “I’ll put us all on a call in a minute to tell you what I know.”
After Jesse had on his chest plate and vest with mags, he hopped into the passenger side of the vehicle in a hurry, trying Ella again with no luck as Oliver followed the others.
Jesse mounted his phone to the dashboard, wanting to call Thatcher to demand answers, but he knew Carter would be calling any second, so the conversation with his old boss would have to wait until after Ella was safe. “Ella’s okay,” he said under his breath. “If someone at DGSE really did tip off Zoran that we’re here, then he won’t hurt her without me there to watch.”
“And Savanna? Sydney?” Oliver asked while changing lanes. “He has no reason to keep them alive.”
“Damn it, you’re right,” he said while accepting the call from Carter on speakerphone. “What do you know?”
“No answer at the Rochella estate. Lines may have been cut. Or the signal blocked,” Carter dropped the bad news on them. News that could only mean . . .
The worst-case scenario was playing out now.
“Tell us what you know,” Jesse demanded, worried Carter was somehow responsible for placing Ella in danger, even if it was ultimately Jesse’s failed hit last year that sparked the domino effect.
“I learned today that Thatcher left out a few important details from the case file he handed over to you,” Carter slowly revealed, and if he went any slower, Jesse would likely snap. “The CIA, French Intelligence, and MI6 are all after the same man.”
“You?” Oliver asked.
“No. Not today, at least.” Carter paused. “When Zoran appeared on CCTV footage in Bulgaria, what Thatcher didn’t tell you is that he was in a wheelchair, and it looks like he’s not the one personally coming after you. He hired out.”
The blood rushed from Jesse’s face at Carter’s words. “Who? Who the fuck is coming after Ella? After me?”
“The MI6 officer couldn’t tell me too much, and she had to keep knocking the wind from me to get close enough to whisper in my ear without drawing attention,” Carter quickly shared, “and yes, I trust her, despite her being a pain in my ass . . . but she said she began working with the CIA as soon as they learned who Zoran hired to carry out his revenge. Thatcher has a bigger fish to catch than Zoran, and they used Jesse to get to me .”
Static crossed the line, not a good sign. If someone was at the Rochella property with a jamming device to cut all comms, the team would be going dark soon.
“I assume DGSE was brought in by Thatcher when he learned we were headed for Paris.” Carter paused, or maybe it was static. “Today was just a stunt to put the word out there that I’m in Paris along with Jesse and Ella. I’m the key piece to their plan.” More static while Carter was speaking, damn it.
“Who? Who the hell . . . after you that the CIA and the . . .” Shit, they were losing the connection.
“The Chech . . .” The line cut out again, but Jesse knew what he was going to say, and a surge of anger had him losing control, punching the dashboard with his free hand.
Oliver side-eyed Jesse. “You know who Carter was talking about, I assume?”
Jesse nodded. “The Chechen,” he responded, wishing like all hell it wasn’t true.
“You’re shitting me. I thought he was just a myth. A bedtime story the Russians told to scare the shit out of their kids about Chechnya. The hitman, The Chechen, is real?”
“Can you hear me?” Carter asked a moment later.
“That’s a good copy,” Oliver quickly responded.
“I’m the only one who has ever faced him and survived,” Carter explained. “Not even those who hire him know what he looks like. But MI6 intercepted intelligence shortly after the Bulgarian agents were killed that it was The Chechen’s team who performed the hits, and MI6 alerted the CIA.”
It wasn’t just Zoran they had to worry about. The most psychotic of all hitmen known to exist, a man even the most deadly Russian assassins feared, was now after the woman he loved.
And Jesse had walked right into the Agency’s trap to draw out The Chechen, using his new working relationship with Carter to help them get to the elusive hitman. Zoran would’ve come for Jesse regardless, but damned if he felt . . .
Before Jesse could think or say more, Griffin announced, “We’re here. But?—”
The line went dead. And when Jesse peered out the window, he knew why. Someone must have set a breaching charge to the front gate of the Rochella estate. The property had already been hit. The blast had torn the double gates clear from their hinges, and it appeared vehicles had rolled right over the mangled metal.
The DGSE sent Jesse’s team there, knowing damn well the women were in danger, but why in the hell weren’t they also there for an assist as Oliver had questioned, especially if the agencies wanted their mark bad enough they were willing to risk Ella’s life to get him?
That could only mean one thing—The Chechen, himself, wouldn’t be showing his face tonight, and the CIA and other agencies must have anticipated that.
Bait. The girls and my team are the bait in hopes The Chechen will eventually come for us himself. And all three agencies would sit and wait, using them, until The Chechen made his moves.
“They better still be in there and alive.” Jesse sent a silent prayer up as he exited the vehicle, no time to lose.
But he knew one thing for damn certain. After Ella and the others were safe, and once Jesse and his men took down Zoran and The Chechen—Thatcher and any officer responsible for placing Ella in danger had better hide because Jesse would be coming for them next.