Chapter 4 #2
One metal table sat in the center, flanked by two folding chairs.
Draven Frost sat in one.
Dmitri stood in the shadows behind him. Large. Arms crossed. Smoking a cigarette.
Two other men stood at opposite ends of the room. Armed.
Asher scanned. One exit behind him. High windows. No other doors visible.
He walked to the table. Pulled out the other chair and sat.
Draven smiled, no teeth. “Asher. Thank you for coming.”
“You asked nicely.”
“Did I?”
“The text said ‘Come alone.’ I appreciated the clarity.”
Draven leaned back. Mid-forties. Expensive jacket. Dark hair silvering at the temples. A scar ran from right ear to jawline. He had the eyes of a crow. “You look terrible,” he said.
“Long week.”
“Tuesday was interesting.”
Asher said nothing.
“Dmitri says you knocked Carlo’s shot wide.”
Asher didn’t look at Dmitri. Kept his eyes on Draven. “And yet he got the shot off anyway. Mission accomplished.”
Silence.
A brutal wind rattled broken windows. Dmitri’s cigarette smoke drifted through cold air.
Draven studied him.
Asher lifted a shoulder. Met his gaze.
Eighteen months—more, really—of being the guy on the take.
“Dmitri thinks you were protecting the witness,” Draven said.
“Dmitri can think whatever he wants. Facts are facts. Federal response was already active. I do nothing, and all eyes are on me. I’m out. Is that what you want?”
“Convenient.”
“Strategic.”
Draven’s fingers tapped the table. Once. Twice. “Give me one reason to trust you, Asher.”
Asher leaned forward slightly. Met Draven’s eyes. “Trust me or don’t. But I’m your only source inside federal protection right now. You need to know where Roger and Destiny are going. I can get that information. Kill me and you’re blind. Keep me alive and I’ll deliver.”
“You sound confident.”
“I’m useful.”
“Are you?”
“You wouldn’t have asked me here otherwise.”
Draven sighed. Nodded. “What do you know about Roger Rousseau’s protection detail?”
“Federal protection is compromised. They know it. Martha Lintz proved that.”
“Yes.”
“So they brought in a specialist. Private contractor. Former US marshal. She’s running the operation off-grid.”
Interest flickered across Draven’s face. “Where?”
“Working on it. She doesn’t trust anyone. Including federal agents.”
“Smart woman.”
“Paranoid woman.”
“In her position, paranoia is survival.” Draven’s fingers drummed the table. “When will you have the location?”
“Roger’s being released tomorrow afternoon. Once they move him to the safe house, I’ll know.”
“Unless she doesn’t trust you.”
“She doesn’t. Yet.”
“What makes you think that will change?”
“I’m very persuasive.”
Draven laughed. Soft. “You’re very something.” The amusement faded. “How long?”
“Once I have the location, you’ll know.”
“That’s vague, Asher.”
“That’s realistic. She’s good. This will take finesse.”
“I don’t have time for finesse. Roger testifies in four weeks.”
“I’m aware.”
“Are you?” Draven’s voice went cold. “Because from where I’m sitting, you interfered with an operation, and now you’re telling me you don’t have intel on the one thing I need.”
Asher didn’t react. “From where I’m sitting, I maintained my FBI cover and positioned myself as liaison to the protection detail. Strategy. Not betrayal.”
“It’s called suspicious.”
“It’s called doing my job.”
They stared at each other.
The warehouse settled. Metal groaning. Dmitri shifting.
Draven sat back slowly. “I want that location, Asher.”
“You’ll have it.”
“When?”
“When I have it.”
“Not good enough.”
“It’s all I’ve got.”
Draven’s eyes narrowed. “I could make this difficult for you.”
“You could try.”
“Don’t make me come after you. I’ll figure out where your family is. Your mother in Denver. Your partner in Renegade. Everyone you care about.”
Asher looked Draven in the eyes. Voice flat. “I don’t have family.”
Draven blinked. “Everyone has family.”
“I don’t.”
“Your mother—”
“Hasn’t spoken to me since my sister died.” He said it without a blink, then leaned forward, cut his voice low. “Listen. Nobody’s worried about me. Nobody’s coming for me. That’s what makes me useful.”
Draven studied him. “You’re telling me you have nothing.”
“I’m telling you I have exactly what you need. Intel on federal protection. Access to the operation. No attachments to compromise me.” Asher leaned forward. “You want Roger and Destiny’s location. I’ll get it. But threatening people I don’t have won’t motivate me. Paying me will.”
“I’m already paying you.”
“Then trust that I’ll deliver, or don’t. But this meeting is wasting both our time.”
Draven’s expression shifted. “You’ve got kahunas, Asher. I’ll give you that.”
“I’ve got twenty-eight days until Roger testifies. That’s what I’ve got.”
Draven stood.
Asher stood too. “I’ll check in when I have something.”
“Don’t take too long.”
“I’ll take exactly as long as it takes to not get caught.”
Draven extended his hand.
Asher shook it. Firm.
He turned and walked toward the door.
Dmitri’s voice cut through the cold. “He’s lying.”
Asher didn’t stop. Didn’t turn. Kept walking.
“Dmitri.” Draven’s voice. Calm. “We’ll see.”
He pushed through. Cold air hit his face.
Three steps across gravel.
No gunshots, so that was a win.
He got in his car. Started the engine. Put it in Drive.
Pulled away slowly. Not fleeing. Just leaving.
Made it to the street before his hands started shaking.
Not fear, just the adrenaline dump.
His phone buzzed.
Patterson
Debrief. Now.
Asher typed:
Asher
Cover intact.
He put the phone down.
Tomorrow, Roger got released at two p.m.
Tomorrow, he had to coordinate with Daphne Cross for the extraction.
Tomorrow, the lies continued.
All while Draven waited for a call with information Asher would never provide.
He should be thinking about Draven. About whether his cover had held. About tomorrow’s extraction.
Instead, he was thinking about the way Daphne had looked at him in that conference room, those beautiful green eyes sharp. Assessing. Missing nothing.
And then her words, which had weirdly lodged inside him. You really can’t help playing hero.
Not sure why that was a problem. But oh, it had made him, in that moment, want to tell her the truth.
But that would blow eighteen months of work. Would compromise the operation. Would put Roger and Destiny at risk.
He could hold it together for four weeks.
Really.