Chapter Twenty-Six #2
Fallon lifted his fingers from the neck of the man tied to a chair. “Dead.”
The blood pooling at the man’s feet from the holes in his chest left no question how he died, but the why remained, and the who.
“Is that Tanner?” Pete asked.
“Yes,” she gritted out. “The one on the floor next to him is Arlo. The other one over there”—she tipped her head toward the body lying near the kitchen table—“is Archie.”
Three dead bodies. No Calista.
Jason Anderson was a dead man. I didn’t give the first fuck about Atlanta’s warning. I was going to strangle the life out of him.
I couldn’t find my voice.
Fallon didn’t seem to have the same problem. “The traitors?”
“That’d be my guess. I thought there was one, but seeing as two are dead, I think it’s safe to say Arlo and Archie were conspiring together.”
Since we’d cleared the house and there were no other bodies, that left one guard.
“Bodhi—”
“Hold that thought, call coming in,” Pete interrupted me.
Please, God, let that be Shep with intel.
“Update,” Pete barked.
There was a lengthy pause. I used the break to look around the room, hoping to find something to give me a clue about what happened here.
The only blood spatter was directed around the dead guys, with the exception of the red smear Archie’s body left as he was dragged across the room.
He was done near the door, which was likely his post, to keep Calista from running.
She hadn’t gone for the weapons piled on the table—thank fuck.
She’d been outnumbered, and in the small space, there was nowhere for her to take cover if she instigated a shoot-out.
So either Jason or Bodhi took out Arlo and Archie, or maybe both men had opened fire at the same time.
Assuming Jason had accompanied his guards to intercept Calli.
But there was no other blood on the floor. I prayed that meant Calli was uninjured.
Not that it mattered if Jason had personally come to snatch Calli. He’d still pay for his part. His blood would spill in the most painful of ways if there was a single mark on my woman.
“Copy that,” Pete said, drawing my attention back to his conversation.
“Gavin and Aiden will check in with you after they pick up Samuel Allard. Call Jack or Catarina and reroute them. We’re leaving Tanner’s now, and just to confirm, he’s dead.
So is Archie and Arlo.” There was another short wait before Pete ended the call. “Appreciate it. Later.”
Seeing as I was on the verge of snapping, Pete didn’t delay. “Grab some weapons and as much ammo as you can carry, we need to roll.”
Thank fuck.
I walked over to the collection of weapons to choose from scattered on the table.
I didn’t take time to peruse. I picked a P226, Fallon and Pete grabbed Glock 17s and, to my surprise, Atlanta went straight to a Sig Cross chambered in .
308. I had questions on her choice of long gun, but I didn’t ask, nor did I question Pete when he picked up a stack of papers as I was shoving all the boxes of nine-mil ammo I could into the pockets of my cargos.
Fallon grabbed what I couldn’t fit. Atlanta nabbed the only two boxes of .308.
Then we finally rolled out.
As soon as we were back in the Wagoneer, with Fallon behind the wheel, I pressed Pete for information.
“Tell me.”
“Atlanta was correct. Jason Anderson approached Amir and offered to buy his problem. Amir saw the wisdom in this, rescinded the bounty, and helped Jason find Calista. Tanner was well known for getting people what they wanted, not just weapons but information. Apparently, he was also an idiot.”
Pete handed me back one of the pieces of paper he’d taken from Tanner’s. It was a handwritten note with a man’s name, Ali Khan, boldly scrolled on the top. Written below his name was his order: fifteen fully auto MP5s.
“Amir sent one of his men out here to talk to Tanner, saw Calista’s name, and reported back.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head.
So fucking stupid. Unbelievably stupid. The man handwrote his orders and left them out in the open.
“If he got that intel, does that mean he finally got access to someone on the inside?” Fallon asked, referring to Shep.
“Yes, low-level errand boy, which was who Amir sent. Gavin and Aiden still need to break Samuel to get the new location.”
“What else did he tell you?” I asked, knowing Pete was holding something back.
“Mason—”
“Tell. Me.”
“Jack and Catarina are en route now.”
“That’s not what I asked,” I growled, unable to keep the dread from seeping in.
“Amir’s got a private fleet of jets. One is being fueled.”
Fucking hell.
“Flight plan?”
“Germany. Three passengers, bogus names.”
Dread turned into terror. Jason was taking her back to Berlin.
“Who do we know—”
“If we miss them, a team will be waiting in Berlin for them.”
If we missed intercepting Calista at the airport, she’d be on a six-hour flight alone with Jason. Six hours was a long fucking time to be at the mercy—
“Calli won’t get on that plane,” Atlanta cut through my thoughts. “She’ll fight and buy us the time we need to get there.”
What Atlanta didn’t say, but what she meant was: Calista would fight to the death—hers or Jason’s.
Her endgame.
She’d take him out or die trying.
That razor wire that had been wrapped around my heart was gone. Calli had unraveled the barbs until there was nothing left of the old pain, leaving me vulnerable to this new emotion—abject panic.
A fear I’d never known threatened to choke me.
Calista would choose dying for her cause over waiting for me to find her.
A terrifying reality sank in, a truth there was an overwhelming likelihood I’d lose her—and faced with that possibility, I could no longer deny I’d fallen in love with Calista Ventura.