13. Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Thirteen
Finn
W hen we land, Noel is the first one out the door. The sun is peeking out of the horizon, creating a glow across the sky. We’ve landed somewhere resembling a field rather than an airstrip—the advantage of a helicopter.
“Where the hell are we?” I grumble, even though this must be Ireland. Northern Ireland, I’d wager.
“The home country.” Noel smirks.
When Kim and Lorcan climb out of the helicopter, I get a better look at them in the half-light. Other than Lorcan’s hair color being darker and his lack of a goatee, he’s the same. Kim hasn’t changed a thing. Long black hair, eyes like coal, and tall—a smidge taller than me even. Her appearance might not have changed, but she’s a chameleon, able to alter her personality to lure in whomever she needs. Lorcan was always like that too—his accent shifting on a dime from Bostonian to Irish. Eager to please, to fit in, and to do the right thing. He was born into the wrong family. He physically resembles our father, but I’m our father’s son, as much as that realization might sting. The old man was a first-class bastard. I have no regrets over the part I played in his death.
“Can you two handle him? I need a nap and then I’ve got shit to do for PJ,” Noel says.
“Aye.” One of Lorcan’s eyebrows lift. “’Tis nothin’.”
“He needs to be at headquarters by eight tonight. Feed him, or whatever, but keep him holed up in your apartment.”
“Sounds grand.” Kim’s accent takes me by surprise. It shouldn’t. She’d want to blend, but it’s flawless, as though she was raised here.
Noel gets into a waiting car, and the driver zooms off. Lorcan and I face each other. “He’s in charge of things? He sounds American.”
“Aye, he is. He’s a useless scut if ever I seen one. Means to an end.” He gestures to the small compact in the parking lot. “This is the closest we’ve gotten to breakin’ into the inner circle. The PLA attracts all sorts.”
“Why do you need me?” I hitch up my government-issued track pants, and my mind drifts to Carys in Cape Verde, realizing her hard work was for naught. There’s no doubt she’ll come for me, and then I’ll tell her everything.
“How about we grab breakfast,” Kim suggests.
Lorcan runs a hand along her back as though she needs reassurance. Is she still not over me shooting her? I thought we cleared that up in Cape Verde before they helped me make my deal.
“We’ve got clothes for you in the car.”
Her accent is something I’ll have to get used to. Each time she speaks, I’m tempted to gawk around for another person. “I haven’t had anything that wasn’t government issued in months.”
“Breakfast it is.” Lorcan unlocks the car.
Kim sweeps the booth for bugs while Lorcan and I order meals from the bar. We stand in companionable silence, and I take deep breaths, wondering when my freedom will set in. Probably not until I lay eyes on Carys. The rest of this’ll fade to the background.
“You gonna fill me in?” I ask once the bartender has punched in our orders.
“No.” Lorcan takes money out of his wallet. “Best wait for Kim. CIA isn’t so sure about this arrangement ’tween you and me.”
“What aren’t they sure about? The fact we’ve shot each other or the fact we ran a mafia empire together?”
Lorcan’s lips twitch. “I suspect both.”
“They figured assigning us to the agent who fell in love with you was the winning strategy?”
The smile drops from his face, and he grimaces before meeting my gaze. “They reckon I’d never do anything to hurt her. They’re not wrong.”
Message received. I’m still lower in the hierarchy of his affections than she is. Not that I’m keen to test that anytime soon. One family shootout is enough for this lifetime.
“You’d better ask any questions you’ve got tonight. Once you’re in place, it’ll be too risky to appear overly familiar with each other.”
“I’m not much for pretending.” Normally, that’s a strength. I am who I am.
Lorcan snorts as he accepts the coffees and the change. “Who’s pretending? Kim doesn’t like you, and I’m not sure how I feel about you. Should be easy enough.” He gives me a hard stare. “Sometimes to get what you want, you’ve got to be willing to be who you’re not.”
He sounds like a Dr. Seuss book, one of the ones Carys bought for Lucas. The point doesn’t go over my head. Whatever it takes to get back to Carys is what I’ll do—including another three years in prison or putting my life on the line. “That what you’re doing now? Being who you’re not?” I grab my coffee and follow him to the booth in the far corner.
“No.” Lorcan’s tone is annoyed. “I reckon that’s what I was doing before Kim. I’ve barely got two pence to rub together, but ’tis a much more fulfilling life.”
The urge to mock him settles over me, a familiar blanket, but I can’t bring myself to joke. I understand what he means. While I missed my money and power when our empire fell, love for a couple people has sprung up in its place. “So, faking your work for the PLA is that fulfilling?” I’m still me—can’t help a little dig.
Lorcan slides Kim’s coffee to her and slips into the booth beside her. I take the opposite side. We might end up on the same team, but I’m not sure we’re there yet. “We’re not in with the PLA yet,” he admits. “Getting you is our power play for access.”
“Why me?”
Her lips twist. “We don’t know.” The Irish accent isn’t as thick, more of an undercurrent than a driving force in her words. “Trust me. We didn’t go looking for this opportunity.”
“You’re still pissy about me shooting you?” I eye her over the top of the mug as I sip my coffee.
Her jaw clenches. “Less about that and more about you murdering my brother in cold blood and him literally dying in my arms.”
A frown mars my brow. What is she on about? “What brother?”
“Chadwick Lee,” Kim seethes. “Ring any bells?”
My back hits the soft cushion of the booth as though she’s shot me. That’s a blast from the past. His death was one of the life sentences I received. Wondered how the FBI was able to pin that on me. “Wicked Wickie was your brother?” I cock my head, trying to catch any family resemblance.
Maybe a bit. Wickie was Asian, wasn’t he? I’m not sure what Kim’s ethnic background is. Asian wouldn’t have been my first choice. Lee’s father was Korean, wasn’t he? Then something else clicks in my memory, and I home in on Lorcan who is avoiding my gaze. Dare I bring it up? She must be aware. Would he hide a secret that big from her?
Let’s test the waters. “Lorcan, what was the deal with Wickie’s father again?”
He winces, and Kim’s eyes narrow. Proof enough. We’re on the same page. Old me would’ve rubbed in that piece of information, ground the salt into the wound until we were all squirming. Maybe I’ve learned a thing or two in the last year. “Appears I missed a step with all the shooting at the warehouse. Care to fill me in?”
Kim and Lorcan exchange a long look. “Want me to tell it?” He rubs a thumb along her cheekbone as though wiping away a tear that hasn’t fallen.
She gives a quick nod and stares into her coffee cup, avoiding my eyes. Then Lorcan launches into an involved story of how our family has intersected with and decimated Kim’s. When he gets to the end, she raises her head, her gaze defiant when it meets mine.
I huff out a breath and take a sip of my coffee, gathering my thoughts. We have to work together with that baggage, and I need to be sure she’ll have my or Carys’s back in a tight spot. The urge to remove Kim from this equation is strong. If the situation were reversed and she did what I did, I’d put a bullet in her spine at the first chance.
“You still want to kill me?” I stare at her. She might have been a double-crosser, but she was never one to sugarcoat her feelings.
“Some days, yes.” She doesn’t break eye contact. “Do you ever have any regrets?”
I toy with my cup on the table. How do I answer that? “That’s who I was then, and if I think back to him, then no, I don’t.” I shrug. “Sounds unfeeling, I’m sure. But I didn’t let myself give a shit about people. Empathy had no place in my life.” I meet her gaze again. “The guy I am now, though?” My mind grapples for the right way to explain the changes I’ve undergone. “I’d never willingly cause you or my brother pain again.” It’s the best I can offer. I’m still not a good man, but I’m better than I was.
Emotions flash across her face in quick succession, but her disappointment is clear. Maybe I should’ve lied.
“I guess that’s something,” she says as the bartender arrives with our food. Lorcan’s hand slides along her back, and she gives him a grateful glance. Their connection, a buzz under the surface when we were in the same house, shines out of them now. Unmistakable. The dimmer on a light bulb turned to full wattage. Christ, I miss Carys.
We eat in silence for a few minutes before I decide to broach the other elephant in the room. “You really don’t understand why the PLA wants me?”
“No.” Lorcan sops up his egg with his toast. “Reckon it could be any number of reasons.”
Kim eyes me, an internal struggle evident on her face. “This is nothing we’ve been told, but I wonder whether your involvement has something to do with the Van de Berg family?”
Carys’s family? “They set her up to take the fall for several PLA arms deals.”
“I’m aware.” Kim’s tone is sardonic. “I did warn her.”
“Why the fixation?” I slice into my fried tomato and take a bite. Charles did business with the PLA when he was in charge of Van de Berg Ammunitions, but Carys stopped those transactions when she took over. Were they pissed at her? Frustrated by her morals? Did they have something against women in powerful positions? “Who runs the PLA?”
“PJ.” Lorcan cradles his coffee cup in his hand. “Pierre-Jacques, a French national with a hot temper. At least that’s what we’ve surmised. Haven’t met him yet.”
“That’s who we’ll see at eight?”
Kim’s cutlery rattles against her plate when she finishes her last bite. “I’d think so. PJ wanted you. We’re delivering. Noel went with us as assurance everything was on the up and up.”
“So, despite the fact he’s a lieutenant, he must be expendable.”
“Aye,” Lorcan agrees. “He’s important enough to babysit us, but not a loss if we killed him.”
“Curious strategy,” I admit. We never let our babysitters get overwhelmed by the ones being babysat. Too risky. When someone needed killed, we did it ourselves. “A loyalty check?” If we outnumbered Noel and could have taken him down and chose not to, it’s an interesting gauge of character.
“Perhaps,” Kim concedes. “If so, we’ll have passed when we turn up with you as directed.”
Tiredness seeps into my bones. With the five-hour time change, I’m fading fast. It might be morning here, but it’s still the middle of the night in Michigan. What time would it be in Cape Verde? Two hours behind here. She’ll be pacing a hole in the floor or on a flight if Evander figured out the switch. “When Carys turns up, I need to be told.”
“What makes you think either of us will hear?” Kim raises her eyebrows.
“Zahir said he was fine with her being here. So, I’m guessing they’ve got eyes on her, and someone will let one of you know.” I push my empty plate into the middle of the table between us. “’Cause I’m not sticking around to help anyone if I can’t see her.”
Lorcan lets out a deep sigh. “Aye, we’ll be informed when she arrives. We’ve been told to let you meet as long as it’s safe.”
I scrunch up my face as I contemplate his answer. “Seem odd to you? Them being so willing to throw her into the middle of this?”
“As we said”—he drains his coffee—“the PLA has a hard-on for the Van de Berg family. Perhaps Zahir believes Carys will be leverage.”
Realization sinks in. The FBI or the CIA want her here. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be this agreeable. She’s my flight risk, the reason I’d ditch and run. So, what are they expecting when she appears? “I want to see her, but then I’m sending her home.”
My brother meets my gaze, and there’s sympathy in his depths. “A wise decision, I’m sure. Nothing good can come of having her in the middle of this.”
PLA headquarters is a run-down, partially converted castle. Looks as though someone tried to turn the ruins into a mansion and got bored halfway through. We’re somewhere in Northern Ireland. Kim and Lorcan are vague and won’t let me check their phone or search the map. If they’re not willing to help me, I’ll add a phone to my list of demands from Pierre-Jacques. Pretentious fucking name. Doing other people’s dirty work has never appealed to me, and I’ve got a feeling they want me to climb into the mud for something. What will it be?
After we’re searched, we’re taken to a ballroom that looks as though it was remodeled in the seventies. A bit garish for my taste. The only piece of furniture is a throne. Well, two. They sit to the left of the oversized double doors. Each one is a deep red with PJ embroidered into them in a crisp white. Is this a joke, or are these people insane? I glance at Lorcan, who is grimacing. Bet he’s thinking the same thing as me.
“You made it.” Noel breezes through the doors.
Kim shoves her hands deeper into the pockets of her leather jacket. “Thought we were meeting with PJ?”
“If we’re not meeting with somebody who can tell me why you’ve kidnapped me, then I’ll be catching the next plane out,” I say.
“Oh?” Noel grins. “With what money?”
I chuckle to hide my annoyance. “You think I can’t come up with enough cash for a plane ticket?” I cross my arms. “When I want something, I get it.”
“Which is exactly the kind of winning attitude I need.” A man wanders into the room through the same doors as Noel. His outfit is rumpled, and his too-long brown hair curls at the ends. He’s younger than Kim. Must be in his late twenties, maybe early thirties with his baby face. Slight frame, average height.
A sheep. Is there a wolf under that facade? “Oh yeah?” I raise my eyebrows. “It’s my winning attitude you need.” I smirk. “I coulda loaned you that from a distance.”
“Oh, no.” He wags his index finger. “I like up close and personal much better.” He throws himself into one of the thrones and gazes at the three of us in silence.
“PJ?” Kim hedges.
“Pierre-Jacques.” He removes a knife from a holder on his hip and presses the tip into his index finger, peering at us over the top. “Kim and Lachlan?” There’s a touch of a French accent, but no lilting Irish.
“Aye,” Lorcan agrees.
At some point, I’m going to screw up his name. They’re close, but not quite the same. Will I be able to plead ignorance? Definitely can’t call him my deartháir beag, or I’ll have a hell of a time explaining that one. Who calls a stranger their younger brother?
“Finn,” Pierre-Jacques says. “We have a job for you.”
“Didn’t realize I was looking.” I want to snatch the knife from his hand, but we’re not positioned close enough to make that easy. As annoyed as I am by this government assignment, I’m aware of my role. Whatever this guy is after, I have to go along with it… eventually.
He grins and spreads his hands. “When we are done with you, we’ll send you home. Not to worry.”
“What is it you’re after?” There’s no getting around my commitment, and I’m not in the mood to play hard to get.
“Two things.” He holds up the corresponding fingers. “We’ve found ourselves in a bit of a dispute with the McCaffery family. You know them, yes?”
Lorcan, Kim, and I tense at the same time. Jesus. I haven’t thought much about them since one of their crew almost murdered Carys eighteen years ago. Going after them won’t be a hardship.
“Ah.” Pierre-Jacques points to the three of us. “A name you all recognize. Excellent.” He tucks the knife into the carrier on his hip. “We want to do business with the Byrne family, and they won’t meet with us. We want you to go to them on our behalf. You know them as well, correct?”
I squint in wariness. “What kind of business?”
“Mutually beneficial.” Pierre-Jacques’s expression is calculating.. “I hear you can be quite persuasive.”
The truth is, I like Thomas Byrne and his family. When Carys disappeared last year, snatched up by the CIA for questioning, he milked his contacts to get me information. I owe him. I’m not sure coming to him with a PLA deal is going to go over well. “What do I get out of this?”
“Your freedom.” Pierre-Jacques shrugs as though that’s obvious.
I chuckle. “You think I couldn’t get that right now?”
“Oh, I am sure there is someone in the world you care about, who you would not want to let down with any foolish behavior. No?”
I grit my teeth and force my shoulders to relax. If I had any doubts about sending Carys straight back to Cape Verde, he just eliminated them. That threat was thinly veiled. “If you wanted my help, I’d need more information.”
“Of course. Of course.” Pierre-Jacques rises from his seat. “Tomorrow, I will give you more details.” He focuses on Lorcan and Kim. “For your help in this matter, I can offer you money or a job.”
“I like earning my way,” Lorcan says.
“Me as well,” Kim agrees.
“A job it is. It’s actually perfect. Noel doesn’t like Finn, so it would be better if he stayed with you tonight. Can you handle him for one more night?”
Kim and Lorcan exchange a glance. “We can,” she says.
“Lunch. Tomorrow.” Pierre-Jacques wanders toward the double doors. “Bring whoever you want. The more the merrier.”
As soon as he’s through the door, I want to start talking, but I know better than to tip my hand. Instead, the three of us show ourselves out, collecting our weapons at the front and heading for the car.
When the last door slams, Lorcan shifts to examine me. “You caught his meaning?”
“I did.” I stare out the window, my heart thumping an irregular beat. Anticipation and dread. “Carys is in Ireland.” The one person I’d do anything to protect is within sniper range of the enemy. “We need to track her down and send her home.”