Chapter 4
Harbinger stared at his phone and willed it to ring. Guardian was a massive company with a global reach. Smoke was right. Striking out on his own would be stupid, and it would risk Ysabel’s safety. So, he waited as his Guardian handlers worked in the background. He glanced at his watch. Nine hours. It was nine hours since he’d called in. They should have something?—
A single knock on his door had him up and his weapon off safety. He picked up his phone and hit the app to see who was at his front door. Well, fuck a duck and add a turkey.
He made his way to the door and opened it, gun still in his hand. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
Valkyrie walked past him. “That’s not nice. Do you have anything to eat? The selection in Economy sucked.”
Smith Young, Val’s husband, waited until he was invited in. Harbinger shut the door behind them. “Yeah, the housekeeper brought some groceries earlier. What are you doing here?”
“We’re your backup,” Smith said as he entered the kitchen.
“Oh, a cat!” Val dropped down and cooed over Spike, who soaked up the attention. Harbinger’s housekeeper had brought him back when she delivered the groceries and set up a schedule to clean now that he was back in Paris. “Such a beautiful baby. Is it yours?”
“Yes. His name is Spike, and he’ll tolerate that for about thirty seconds.”
Val snorted and picked up the cat. “Men.” She kissed Spike’s head and sat down with him in her lap at the kitchen table. Spike started his motorboat purr and closed his eyes as Val stroked his golden fur. Val turned her attention to him. “Food? I’m starving. I hate traveling Economy.”
“Wait, you said Economy?” Harbinger blinked at his friends.
“The only two seats available to get us here,” Smith said. “I think my knees are permanently bruised.”
“No doubt,” Harbinger agreed. Smith was a huge man. Harbinger wasn’t sure how he’d folded up to fit into an Economy seat.
“So, we got the bare bones brief from Fury as we were running out the door to get here. Anything new?”
“No. I have Pierre’s phone, but I’ve secluded it in a Faraday cage in case it was a plant.”
Val stroked Spike and watched her husband forage through the fridge. She nodded. “You don’t trust her father?”
“No. Not as far as I can throw him.”
“Why?” Smith asked as he pulled food out of the refrigerator.
Harbinger grabbed a bottle of wine as he answered. “Gut feeling. He’s alleged to have escaped the grasp of le milieu and is a legit businessman, yet when he needed protection for Ysabel, he contacted the boss. Not an old friend, the main man.”
“He’s connected. So is Abrasha,” Smith said.
Harbinger’s head snapped in the big guy”s direction. “What?”
Val continued to stroke the cat as she answered. “We’ve made Abrasha Molchalin our own little project, which is why Guardian sent us. Anya thinks Smith looks like Abrasha.”
Harbinger blinked as his mind flashed back to that train ride in Russia. “Your father told your mother you looked just like him? You think the ‘him’ in the situation was Molchalin?”
Smith nodded. “We pulled in some favors from the CIA and have several old and grainy photographs of him.”
Harbinger waited a heartbeat, but no one said anything. “So, do you look like him?”
“He does. Almost identical,” Val said as Harbinger handed her a glass of wine. “Smith is in better shape, is more muscular, and taller than Abrasha, but yeah, they share enough characteristics they could be related.”
Smith pulled down four plates and started placing fruit and cheese on each. “Who’s the fourth plate for?”
“Con,” Valkyrie said. “He’s coming to oversee all things techie for you.”
“Do I know him? Was he on your flight?”
“He’s the one who made the ancient one’s phone play that kid’s tune,” Smith said from where he was slicing a baguette.
Valkyrie laughed. “No, none of us has met him. Wait, I think Ice and Mal may have. Anyway, he’s flying in from wherever he does his techie stuff. Fury said he’d be here at roughly the same time.”
Harbinger handed Smith a glass of wine but didn’t take any for himself. He was jonesing for a fight, and alcohol would only increase that desire. “I have the phone with the texts, and if there were calls between Abrasha and Pierre, it should be on there, too. It was supposed to be his personal phone.”
Smith frowned. “And he gave it up?”
Harbinger stared at the man and smirked. “Without hesitation.”
Val stopped petting Spike. “Odd, isn’t it? I mean, if Abrasha is sending proof of life photos to that number …”
“It’s conceivably the only way Abrasha can contact him. Yeah, that’s why it’s in a Faraday cage in my comm room.” Harbinger thought it was sketchy as hell.
Smith pulled out a chair and sat down with his lunch after placing Val’s and his on the table. “Flack and I will continue working on a file on Abrasha and now Archambeau. There’s little to nothing readily available on Molchalin, so we’re using alternative methods to gather as much information as possible. Archambeau will be by the numbers until we discover anything unsavory.”
“Alternative methods?” Harbinger picked at the food in front of him. He wasn’t hungry. His gut was twisted in ten different knots, and all felt like they’d been drenched in acid. He had to find Ysabel.
“That’s code for the dark side,” Val said while eating a piece of cheese. She broke off a tiny piece for Spike and fed it to him.
“The dark web—or dark net, whichever you prefer. Con will be using your comm room while I work with Flack in ours. Fury assumed your comm room was secure,” Smith clarified.
“Our comm room most definitely is, and our place isn’t too far from here. Who knew we were neighbors?” Val took a sip of wine. “God, I needed this. Economy.” She shivered and took another sip of her wine.
“Yeah, my comm room is secure.”
“Good, then Con will stay with you and work from this location, and Smith will connect with Flack. With both of them working, we’ll figure out what’s up with Abrasha and use everything we have to find your woman.” Val set her glass down. “Which reminds me. Don’t think you’re going to get out of the trouble you’re in with us. You could have said something, jerk. Engaged, really?”
“Right, because you were so upfront with your relationship. You kidnapped him and flew him to Europe. Did you tell anyone before you did that?” Harbinger pointed at Smith as he talked.
Smith looked at his wife. “He has a point.”
“No, he doesn’t. It wasn’t really kidnapping. You went willingly. Besides, at that point, we didn’t know we were in love.” She pointed at Harbinger. “He did. He asked her to marry him! Like that was twenty steps ahead of us at that time.”
Smith swiveled his head back and looked at Harbinger. “She has a point.”
He frowned at his friend. “Dude, just eat. I don’t need you to keep score.”
Val laughed. “Afraid I’m going to win?”
“I love a good competition,” said a man he’d never seen before from his kitchen doorway.
Harbinger, Val, and Smith were up with three automatics trained on the guy before he could blink. The cat scurried out of the kitchen past the stranger. The man laughed and pointed at the cat. “He took out of …” The guy turned around, saw the guns, and lifted his hands slowly. “Whoa. My name is Con. You invited me here. The front door was unlocked, and I’m hungry.” He pointed toward the front door before swiveling his index fingers to point at the extra plate on the counter.
“Jesus, man, ever think to knock?” Harbinger said, his weapon still trained on the guy.
“The door was unlocked. Why knock?”
Harbinger leveled his weapon at the man. “Prove you’re Con.”
The man rolled his eyes. “Y’all know the song I put on the Ancient One’s phone?”
All heads went north and south. Con started singing the song about a baby shark.
Smith was the first to drop his weapon but lifted it again. “Stop singing that, or I’ll shoot you just because.”
Con’s mouth snapped shut. Valkyrie returned her weapon to her boot from where she’d pulled it and waved a hand. “Your food is over on the counter.”
“Cool, a picnic. I”ll eat and work if you take me to the phone and your comm room. I know you want answers ASAP.”
Harbinger was down with that. His cell phone rang in his pocket. “Go.”
“Authenticate Messenger.” Fury’s voice came over the phone.
“Heralder,” he replied. “Con, Val, and Smith are here.”
“Good. Put me on speaker.”
He did what he was told, and Fury continued. “We were able to confirm Pierre Archambeau’s story that Ysabel was born in the States. The background check Harbinger had run on her before he proposed validated her American birth but nothing else. Since then, we’ve discovered her original birth certificate was produced at the county hospital and filed at the courthouse. They have it on microfiche, which has since been digitized. No father was listed on the birth certificate, but Léonie is listed as the mother. The adoption was legal … ish.”
“What do you mean ish?” Smith asked before he could.
“The lawyer who did the private adoption died before he could file the documents with the court. So, while the paperwork was done, it was never registered with the court.”
“It doesn’t matter, does it? She’s an adult.”
“But she isn’t Pierre’s daughter. She’s Abrasha’s, allegedly, which means he has two heirs. Both daughters, both by the same woman.”
“What?” Val asked.
“You heard that right. Ysabel has a sister, five years younger, and Abrasha hasn’t made a move from his location in Switzerland, but his daughter has.”
“Switzerland? They haven’t kicked him out yet?” Con asked.
“No,” Fury answered bluntly. “The daughter is in Paris and has been since her mother’s death.”
A sudden thought struck Harbinger. “Question.”
“What?” Fury bit out the response.
“Why didn’t the second daughter or the old man himself attend the mother’s funeral? Are we sure she’s dead? What information would she give Ysabel that Abrasha and his other daughter would want or go after? Why crypto, and why the hell would Pierre be their target?”
“All good questions. Jewell wants your tech guy to contact her as soon as he gets set up.”
“Got it. The name’s Con, by the way. In case you forgot,” Con snarked.
There was a muffled response, and Con snickered from his position in the middle of the kitchen.
Harbinger wasn’t going to get into their pissing contest. Instead, he asked, “How did you locate the sister? I could’ve done that for you.”
“We have an asset from the baby class in Paris. Jinx will remain in the area should we need his assistance. To this point, we have a fuckton of questions and no information. Tear that phone apart and get us some answers. Conference call in six hours, and the big guy will be on board for this one. Val and Smith have new comm earpieces for both of you. Be ready.”
Con picked up his plate and took Valkyrie’s glass of wine. “Hey, get your own.” She grabbed it back. “Besides, you’re working.” She tossed the guy a small black case. “Your earpiece.”
“Damn.” Con sighed after he caught the case. “Okay, take me to your comm room.”
Harbinger was more than happy to set the guy up, and after he caught his earpiece, he motioned for Con to follow him. Con stopped and picked up a small suitcase before following Harbinger into the communications area Harbinger had built.
“This will do nicely.”
“The bed and bathroom connected are yours to use.”
“Thanks. I’ll let you know as soon as I have something.” Con went in and dropped the suitcase he was carrying. “Phone?”
“There.” Harbinger pointed to the small box on the counter.
“Cool.” The guy popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and opened his bag, pulling out the ugliest laptop ever. The thing looked a thousand years old, was boxy, and scratched to hell.
“What’s that shit? Guardian can’t afford a new one for you?”
“Nah, man, this baby is state of the art. She’ll run circles around anything on the market.”
“Then why does it look like shit?”
“Man, don’t piss off my pretty princess here. She’s sensitive, and I made her look this way. If you saw this, would you steal it?”
Harbinger snorted, “No.”
“Exactly. Now, give me ten minutes, and I’ll have this phone done.”
He backed out of the room as Con set up his system. Finally, they were going to get some answers.