Chapter Four
Phoenix
Present
“We’re out of time and options. I need a decision.”
Holding a burner to my ear in one hand, another cell in the other, I looked at the texted picture for the second time today. It was the first and only picture I had, but it wasn’t new. Neither were the texted videos that’d followed.
“Nix,” Cypher clipped.
I pocketed the encrypted cell that had my old personal number on it, and compartmentalized. “What?” That first text, two months ago, had changed everything.
“Did you hear a damn word I said?”
No. I was mentally itemizing every action item I still needed to implement for my plan. “Make the call.”
Cypher’s tone went from irritated to exasperated. “Which fucking call?”
“Neil Christensen.” Cypher could deal with the former Danish Special Forces Jaegerkorpset turned real estate developer.
“One, I already talked to him. He gave me the same shit he told you. Two, I’m a hacker, not your real estate broker or personal assistant.”
Cypher was a hell of lot more than a hacker. “You’re cybersecurity, overwatch, and IT.” Former SEAL and Delta Force, he was also an assaulter and a sniper. I was lucky he was behind my computers, let alone working for me.
“Like I said, not your fucking PA. Make a decision and do it STAT. The rest of the equipment’s incoming. I need a location.” Cypher hung up.
I dialed Christensen.
He answered like he always did, in Danish. “Ja.”
“It’s Phoenix. I want the building.”
“I have already told you and your hacker. The building is not for sale.”
“Everything’s for sale.” For a price.
“Not for you.”
Staring at the Atlantic from the oceanfront penthouse suite in the Four Seasons Surfside, I silently cursed. “What will it take?”
No response.
“Work with me. For old times’ sake.” I knew this wasn’t about money, but I’d pay whatever he wanted.
“It does not matter what name you use now, there are no old times between us. The building is not for sale. Tell your hacker not to call me again.”
“Poor choice of words.” Admittedly. “We saw a lot of deployments together. I’m asking for a favor based on that history.” I took a gamble. “And it’s not like you to hold on to a building that size.”
“My business is not open for discussion. We are done.”
Fuck. “Wait.” Before he could hang up, I switched tactics.
Asking the Jaegerkorpset for help was transparent at best, but like Cypher said, I was out of options.
If I wanted to pull this off, I needed a location, one that fit all my criteria, and I needed it a month ago.
The building in question was it. “I need your help, Christensen. From one operator to another. Can you tell me what it’ll take for you to sell to me? ”
Silence.
I used one of the few Danish proverbs I knew. “No one is rich enough to do without a neighbor.”
Christensen replied in Danish before flipping back to English. “Ingen er saa rig, at han ikke traenger til en nabo. If you are going to use the proverb, learn the proverb.”
I switched to Danish. “Egen arne er guld vaerd.”
“A hearth of one’s own is only worth its weight in gold if one earns it. You are wasting time. This conversation is over.”
“What do I have to do to earn it?” I didn’t beg. I made women beg. On their knees, on their back. For a lick, suck, finger, a fuck. Except I hadn’t fucked a woman in a long time, a month ago notwithstanding, and this Jaegerkorpset was making me beg like a goddamn submissive.
“Speak with your kin.”
That’s what this was about? “I’ve spoken with Alpha.
” Briefly. Adam “Alpha” Trefor, former SEAL and Team leader, now owner of Alpha Elite Security, wasn’t technically my relation, but he had married my sister.
He’d also given me an ultimatum twenty-eight days ago.
Following the trail I’d left, tracking me and the Paragon to the Canary Islands, he’d been waiting on the docks when I’d pulled in to refuel.
Then he’d given me a month to come clean to my sister, in person, that I was alive.
Otherwise, he’d said I’d officially be dead to them both.
Not that I wasn’t already. I hadn’t seen Alpha or my sister in a decade, not since my faked death and subsequent reimmersion as a weaponized asset for the Commander in Chief.
Wasn’t my choice.
I had a dead Vice Admiral to thank for that. The same Vice Admiral I used to respect, used to call father. Now, if he were alive, I would slit his throat and watch him bleed out.
“Trefor is not your blood,” Christensen clipped.
With all of my tradecraft training, intelligence work, and PSYOPs, this was an exact scenario I should’ve predicted and compensated for.
Strategic, tactical psychological operations were nothing new to me.
But the reason I was coming in, the reason I’d allowed myself to be compromised, the trail I’d left for Alpha to find, was entirely fucking new—as of two months ago.
Analyzing a former Huntsmen Corps’s motives like I should have when I devised my strategy, I read him in on the next step of my plan. “I’m heading into AES HQ tomorrow to speak with my sister.” Also to talk with Alpha, because I needed both of them on board for this to work.
“Call me after.”
I needed the building before. Cypher was right, I was out of time. I’d spent the past month fast-tracking my plans, but more importantly, having the building in my possession before I spoke with my sister and Alpha was my bargaining chip. “I need the real estate, Christensen.”
The dedicated elevator to the suite opened, and Helios stepped off.
“You need to cross the threshold,” Christensen clipped, landing one of his cryptic comments.
Looking pissed off as usual, Helios prowled the open-plan living area.
“Then you’ll sell me the building?” I asked Christensen, aiming to get his word.
“Then you will tell me how the reunion went.” Christensen hung up.
I pocketed the cell. “Helios.”
The six-and-half-foot warfighter turned from where he stood scanning the view.
“I can’t believe I’m about to fucking say this, but I miss the boat.
” He nodded toward the elevator. “There’s no goddamn privacy here.
Walking through that lobby every fucking day is asking for trouble. You wiping our digital footprint?”
“Ship,” I corrected for the countless time, silently not disagreeing with his sentiment.
The armored sixty-five-meter Heesen mega yacht, currently offshore with one crew, was a much more enticing prospect than a hotel penthouse.
“And Cypher’s handling the security cameras here.
” Or he would once I was gone. Until then, I couldn’t continually wipe the hotel’s servers without drawing suspicion. “Sitrep?”
“On which fucking problem?” Helios sank into the couch. “Because you have a fuck ton.”