46. Gwen
Gwen
I’ve barely laid out the plan before Dad charges forward, his boots thudding against the hardwood, a vein standing out at the side of his neck.
I decided we should have this conversation in my suite, in front of witnesses, so no blood would be spilled—partially kidding. But my father is predictable about my safety, so . . .
Behind that indomitable force now, the mountains rise in jagged silhouettes beyond the glass, their snow-dusted peaks catching the wash of light. For one second, everything is quiet. Almost peaceful. And then it’s not.
“I thought you were going to pull her back. Not push her off the bloody ledge.” Dad’s jaw tightens so hard, I’m about to ask Easton to throw him some gum so he doesn’t grind his teeth to dust.
“There is no ledge.” I step in front of Easton as a shield—probably the only time he would let me do this since there’s no risk of danger for me. “Hear out the rest of the plan. Please.”
“Maybe you should listen to her,” Carter interjects himself into the fight, and I won’t stand in Carter’s way if he’s willing to hear me out.
Uncle Gray echoes the same command, and I shudder in relief to have their support.
“I don’t answer to either of you.” Dad’s bite is actually worse than his bark, so I have to tread lightly here. He looks around me at his target, glaring at Easton in a way that has me believing he could freeze lava.
Easton sidesteps me, setting a hand on my arm, his thumb pressing once, then twice—grounding me back into my body. While he very, very reluctantly agreed to this plan, he had several if-then and if-not requirements, which Dad will no doubt share if I can ever get him to listen.
“You want my daughter to walk out of this hotel, publicly claim a crime that isn’t hers, and let strangers put their hands on her.”
“Okay, it does sound terrible when you say it like that.” Shit, meant to think that, not say it.
Dad’s gaze whips between us, eyes bulging like he’s one heartbeat away from a medical emergency. “You don’t put your life on a chessboard like this. What are you thinking?”
“Wow,” I blurt out, “look at you using—”
“That’s how messed up this is making me,” he cuts in, dragging a hand through his hair. “I can’t think straight.”
Natasha makes a discreet come-here gesture, and I move to her side, out of the blast zone. We only pulled the four of them in here for this showdown, and I’m counting on her support.
“With all due respect,” Easton finally breaks his silence, and I was beginning to wonder if he changed his mind, “they’re controlling the clock. Every move we’ve made has been reactionary. Gwen’s right, this might be our only chance to control the situation and take back the power.”
“I can’t believe you’re siding with her,” Dad scoffs.
Easton’s gaze moves to me for a second before he shifts back to Dad. “Her side is the only one I’ll ever be on,” he proclaims, the air of authority in his tone making it crystal clear he’s not backing down.
I could kiss him here in front of everyone for that, but you know . . . there’s a growly man in front of us looking for a fight.
Dad stares at Easton. Quietly. Intensely. Anger barely reined in. “And you damn well better always be on my baby’s side.”
Baby, oh Dad.
But.
Awwww, did he just . . .
Focus, focus.
Dad stabs the air and ruins the moment by adding, “Unless her safety is in question.”
Easton holds up his hand in a plea to hear him out.
Good luck with that. “We’ll have your father-in-law and the president backing us.
The British will be forewarned about what we’re doing.
And you and I will be with her the whole time,” Easton assures him.
“All of that is non-negotiable for this plan to move so much as an inch forward.” He pivots to me, ensuring I hear those words, too.
Yeah, I know. I lightly shake my head.
“She’ll never be out of our sight.” Easton’s voice drops as he continues. “And no one is getting to her through us. Who better to personally escort her than the two men who—”
He stops.
Too late.
I lurch forward, but Natasha catches my wrist, a silent urge to hold back for now. I’m about to forget all about Dad’s impending meltdown and, in front of everyone here, ask Easton what he was about to say. And why he cut himself off.
Before anyone can say anything, Easton locks back in, forcing me to do the same. “We only move if POTUS clears it and speaks to the British first. Before there’s another strike, she’ll go into protective custody to prove her innocence.”
“This is how we protect our people and secrets,” I join along with him, my nerves still shot.
“It’s simple and clean. I tell them now that someone took my rig while we were on vacation in Dubai, and I believe I’m being framed.
POTUS backs that up. And in a show of good faith, I’ll stay in British custody to prove I’m telling the truth until the real criminals are caught. ”
“This is absurd,” Dad hisses. “You really think I’m going to stand there and watch someone put cuffs on you? On live TV, no less?”
“Trust me, not my idea of a good time, either,” Easton grates out, then glances at me.
My brain betrays me, because maybe I wouldn’t mind him doing that to me in the bedroom.
The look he gives me says he went there, too.
Two seconds. That’s all it takes for us to derail in the middle of a life-or-death strategy session.
“We can negotiate that there’s no cuffing involved,” Carter tosses out like this is a done deal, and please let it be.
“Isn’t taking her to London exactly what they want?” Dad presses.
“That’s why we’re going to the British embassy closest to us. There’s one in Bern, Switzerland. It’s a short flight away,” I share, bringing up one of the only-ifs Easton and I already discussed. “But first, I’ll text Elaina that we’re flying from Switzerland to Heathrow.”
Dad starts to object again, but Easton takes point explaining what comes next. “It buys us time to get to Bern. If they think we’re going to London, hopefully they’ll hold off on a second attack.”
It’s a damn good feeling having him on my side. Truly.
Natasha releases my wrist, and I take that as permission to step back into the fire.
Easton reaches for my hand—a bold move, all things considered. He laces our fingers together, his skin warm against mine, and my pulse finally falls back into rhythm.
Dad notices straight away, and his gaze lingers.
“Once we land in Bern,” I pick up, “I’ll text Elaina there’s been a change in plans and we’re not going to London. And, of course, Liam will have a heads-up about this, and it’ll be him holding her mobile. Elaina won’t know about any of this.”
“Ideally we’ll confirm whether someone’s actually monitoring Elaina’s messages before we even get on that flight,” I say.
“And if you’re wrong?” Dad grunts. “What if they didn’t hack her mobile? Liam doesn’t think they did.” He motions to the hall as if Liam’s out there. “I just talked to him, and he—”
“Then we adapt.” Like we’ve been doing since I was taken. “But I can’t sit here waiting for another attack to be pinned on me. What if the next one is real, and people die?”
“She’s not wrong.” Carter steps forward, entering the metaphorical fighting ring. The opponent? My father. “We can’t keep waiting, especially when all we still have is theories and no concrete evidence.”
“Once these assholes realize that we’ve outsmarted them,” Easton begins, voice wavering a touch because it’s still killing him to agree to this, I know, “they’ll realize we have their backs up against a wall.”
Wind whispers against the windows, the only sound in the room as I wait for Dad to respond. When he stays quiet too long, I decide to drop the final part of the plan. The part he’ll really hate. “My hope is they’ll risk holding off on another attack until they can get me out of there.”
Dad’s eyes widen as he stumbles closer. “Bait?”
Nerves trap my yes in my mouth.
“I thought you were insane before, but this is next level.” His eyes snap to Easton. “If you truly care about my daughter, how can you possibly let her do this?”
Easton looks over at me, and when our gazes collide, his lips part, but nothing comes out. Instead, his dark brows slant over his eyes as he wordlessly squeezes whatever he’s feeling into my hand.
“I don’t want her to be bait, trust me.” He slowly redirects to Dad. “But Gwen’s the most stubborn woman on the planet. Unless we hold her prisoner—which we can’t do—if she feels she can protect us, she will take the fall for the team. Whether we want her to or not.”
“I don’t understand why you’d—”
“Because she’s your blood,” Easton cuts Dad off. “She’s just like you, dammit. If you didn’t want her to follow in your footsteps, you should have set a different example when you came into her life.”
Dad staggers back, cupping his mouth.
So many emotions are hitting me, and I’m doing my best to hold strong. Last thing I need is Dad, Carter, or the others to think I’m not tough enough to hang with them on the op—especially after what went down in Dubai.
“You and I will both be at her side the entire time,” Easton speaks up, his voice softening now. “And Falcon will be right outside, locked and loaded to move on target once they come for her.”
Dad’s hand falls to his side, his fight collapsing on a deep breath before asking in a ragged voice, “And if they throw her in a cell?”
“Won’t happen. That’ll be negotiated before the two of us turn ourselves in along with her,” Easton explains. And he’s being the rock I need. I’ll be forever grateful to him for believing in me, supporting me. “We’ll go to a safe house of our choosing in Bern.”
“Bern,” Carter says under his breath. “I think I know of a place we can use.” We were counting on that reaction. Batman always has “caves” on call everywhere. No clue how, but he’s resourceful. “Overwatch, chokepoints, the perimeter. I’ll ensure everything is secure before we leave.”
“And if they send everything they’ve got at her because they’re desperate?” Dad aims his question at Carter, recognizing he’s obviously on board with this, thank goodness.
“If they had enough mercenaries they trusted, they’d have used them to grab Gwen sooner rather than going to such extremes to get her laptop.” And thank you, Uncle Gray, for having my back, too.
“The Australians already outlived their usefulness.” Like that bastard Bodhi. “Looks like they were never meant to be involved in part two of the plan.”
“I expect they have more bodies for us to fight, but nothing we can’t deal with,” Carter continues, holding his mobile at his side. “And they’ll have no choice but to send them if they want to try and finish carrying out their plan.”
Dad slowly turns to Natasha and rasps, “What do you think?”
The fact he’s even asking her . . .
This is good.
“You know me. I’m not the wait-and-see type.” She shoots me an uneasy smile, then faces him. “I’m in.”
Thank you, thank you! “I’ll give you my rig since I won’t be able to bring it with me,” I rush out. “You can keep an eye on the facial recognition program that’s searching for Jezebel. And keep in touch with Julian in case they use the CCTV nuke again.”
“I’ll also continue monitoring Elaina’s texts,” Natasha offers. “Should the team stay in London, or should we pull them in for support in Switzerland?”
“We may need boots on the ground there if they do strike before we make it to Bern,” Carter suggests. “And something tells me if Molly truly is our suspect, she’s in London or close by to the city. Staying underground, but there.”
And that reminds me . . . “Did you talk to Zoey about Molly yet? Did she accidentally say anything to her and just not tell us?”
Based on Carter’s grimace, the call went as I expected. Miss Always Flies Solo wasn’t a fan of being questioned about her loyalty. Probably took it much worse than Nash did.
“She said she’s never shared anything private about our team with Molly.” He squeezes one eye closed. “Different words were used, but you get the idea.” He holds his mobile in front of his mouth like he’s going to tap it against his lips but doesn’t. “Maybe I should call Camila?”
“Having second thoughts about using my daughter as bait, are you?” Dad, dammit.
“No, we’re not letting Camila risk her life for a vision just to save mine.” I slap my free hand over my chest. “She would also have to slowly and safely wean off the medicine first, and we don’t have the time. And that’s the bloody truth, not just me being stubborn, and you know it.”
Carter lowers his mobile to his side and hesitantly nods. The fact he’s possibly having reservations about my being taken into custody doesn’t exactly sit well with me, which means it’ll sit like a box of boulders in Dad’s stomach.
I gently pull my hand free from Easton’s and approach Dad with cautious steps. I rest my hand on his chest. “So . . . have you made up your mind?” He opens his mouth to answer, but before he can, I clarify, “Are you staying behind?” I swallow. “Or are you coming with us?”