Chapter 31
“ When you have been a wolf, it is very difficult to be tied to a tree like a lamb.” ~Unknown
Gwen
When my soul reenters my body, I open my eyes. My cherished lover, friend, and protector stares at me with so much caring, my heart overflows.
“They’re going to want us back soon.” As he speaks, someone taps on the door.
The ever-intrusive and yet polite Mr. Fromm clears his throat. “Mr. and Dr. Wulf? The ambassador requests your presence.”
“Give us five.” Axel groans, shoots me an evil grin, and kisses me. “Make it ten.”
“I’ll let them know. If you like, I left some clean clothes for you.” A short blast of orgasmic delight later, we dress in military sweats.
Hands intertwined, we follow the assistant down the hallway to the conference room where Slate holds open the door.
As we pass, I tap his arm. “I haven’t thanked you and the team yet for coming to my rescue and I-”
“You’re welcome.” Smiling, he nods as if he hadn’t just cut me off.
But I still have unanswered questions and may never have another chance to ask them.
After we follow him inside, I choose the wing-backed chair next to him and lean into his ear. “You jumped over a lot of red tape to save me. How?”
His brows raise, and the hint of a smile forms on his lips. “You may have made a favorable impression on the president last year.”
Realizing I won’t get anything more from the taciturn man, I lean back, fold my arm over my chest, and mutter, “Let the games begin.”
The other two squares must’ve packed up and gone home. Now, only the FBI director’s scowling face looms from the projected screen.
“Are you and your wife feeling more rested , Special Agent Wulf?” Ignoring Quail’s sarcasm, my husband folds his hands and places them on the polished oak.
“Yes, sir. And thank you for your concern, sir.” Axel’s face gives nothing away and for once, I appreciate his almost supernatural abilities.
The head of all the FBI glares at us, much like the wizard before the curtain revealed him to be a charlatan. “I’d like to know how one of my men, who is supposedly on vacation, ends up with a goddamn group of mercenaries in Belarus!”
I’m about to jump up to defend my man until his knee bumps mine. His arrogant smile tells me not to worry. Staring directly into the conference room’s camera, he lifts his chin and squeezes my fingers.
“Well, sir, this is how it went down. My wife and I were engaged in marital relations when suddenly, Interpol’s Brittany Babcock pounded on our honeymoon cottage’s door. She claimed she found a rat in Thomas Ledbetter’s organization who wanted me to meet up immediately.”
“You didn’t find this strange?” His unfair accusations make it hard to stay quiet, especially because Axel’s defense appears weak.
Instead of getting angry, my man shrugs, his voice flat. “Sometimes, breaks in an important case happen at the most inopportune times. I determined the risk was minimal.”
Axel glances at me when I growl under my breath. Not for the first time, I wonder what might have happened if I hadn’t’ve followed them to the tiki bar or if I had ignored Danbury in the hotel.
Feeling the need to change the direction of these proceedings, I stand. “Director Quail, did you find the guy who shot me?”
Brows raised, the head of the FBI motions to someone standing off-screen. After a suited twenty-ish man whispers in his ear, he nods and returns his attention to the virtual meeting. “Delaware State Police arrested a local thug for attempted murder. Not able to make bail, he remains behind bars. He claims a woman hired him.”
And all this time I thought the assassin was Danbury or Ledbetter ’s idea . “Fucking Brittany.” I say this under my breath, at least I hope so.
“And Dr. Wulf?” Thankfully, Quail is across the Atlantic and can’t see my knees shake.
“Yes?” I’m pretty sure I know what he’s going to say next.
“I assume there is no proof to his claim you shot him with a weapon which gave him a heart attack?”
“Correct.” I love how he worded the question, so I don’t have to lie.
His giant head takes up the whole wall. “We will address this breach in security later. Right now, I’d like to return the focus to Danbury. Wulf?”
My husband scrubs his hand across his beard. “Well, after I spoke with Ms. Babcock, I agreed to meet with her informant, but he failed to appear.”
“Because your wife followed you. Isn’t that correct?” He scowls at me, and my face heats. Holy crap, I pray my actions don’t get my spouse fired.
As always, Axel shields me. “My better half had concerns for my safety. Considering what happened, she did well to act on her suspicions.”
“Go on.” The man’s willingness to drop the subject puts me somewhat at ease, but we broke so many laws, I worry we won’t exit this interrogation unscathed.
“You’ll need to ask someone else to fill in the missing gaps. Here’s the bottom line. Babcock murdered her roommate and set me up to be the fall guy. Danbury recorded the whole thing and used the file to bait my wife into working for Ledbetter. When she refused to trade her expertise for my freedom, the arms dealer drugged her and put her on a plane.” His ability to tell half-truths makes me better understand how, beyond the obvious, he earned the name wolf.
Quail takes a moment to digest before asking, “A link to this video showed up in my inbox. How was that managed?”
Much like a grade-schooler, I raise my hand. “Can I speak?”
The Fed nods, so I take a deep breath and make up an alternate version of reality. “I hacked into Ledbetter’s network, downloaded the file, and sent it to Patten Securities.”
I don’t dare make eye contact with anyone, but I need not have worried.
Quail focuses all his attention on the rescue team’s leader. “And exactly how did your company get involved, Mr. Slate?”
“Respectfully, sir, you’ll have to ask our Commander-in-Chief.”
Ouch! Game over, dude.
After a brief intermission, Deputy Wonderful Wizard drops his line of questioning and requests the rest of our team, join us in the meeting room.
Sebastian, AKA Suds, volunteers to speak first. It must be an inside joke because everyone groans and rolls their eyes.
“Go on, mate.” Lucky takes out his phone, opens a stopwatch app, and presses start.
His friend inhales, lets it out slowly, then shares a lopsided grin. “Thank y’all for allowin’ me ta talk. Now, some people assume I tend to ramble on account of my Guinness book record for talkin’ nonstop, but I know the difference between important shit like this and an ordinary police interrogation. The two things couldn’t be more dissimilar, and I have every intention of staying on point.”
The navy men share a chuckle, out of sight of their inquisitor.
Oblivious to being the butt of their joke, the Washington man squints at Suds. “Mr. Sutcliff. What exactly happened in Belarus?”
“Do you want me to start as we touched down in Vilnius or afore that?” The thicker the drawl, the more the SEALS snicker.
“Wherever.”
“Okay, well, me and my wife were having dinner with her cousins when I got a request from my pal, Slate here to go to the airport. Seeing as how I owe him a ton of favors, I couldn’t say no. I also dragged along my cousins-in-law, Hands and Wheels, AKA my brothers-in-arms. We had to leave the pasta primavera, which was a shame because it had the perfect amount of-”
“Sutcliff. How about you start at the airfield.” It’s a good thing Quail can’t see the guys in the room holding back their laughter.
Suds shakes his head as if not integral to this inside job. “Waaahl, let’s see. We took off from JFK and landed in Dulles. There, we were joined by Sir Lochlan James and some Feds. We flew to Lithuania. We found a guide to take us into Belarus. We located the villa where Guinivere, aka, Dr. Wulf was took. Now, this is where things get interesting. We stole a bakery truck, hid in the back, and entered the compound. Now some fellas wasn’t real happy about our friend wantin’ his wife back. It might’ve taken a bullet or three to convince them to let her go. And then, they followed us, but do not fuck with SEALS. Hear me? We took ol’ Ledbetter’s jet. Some Russian fighter jets wanted us to follow them to their airspace. That’s when Gwen took down a whole damn GPS satellite.”
Lochlan James applauds and grins at me. “Fookin' brilliant.”
“Mr. Slate, if you could control your men?”
The man in question raises a barely perceptible brow and Lucky smirks. “Oi, just sayin’ what everyone’s thinkin’.”
Their applause warms me, especially because, other than the spoof, I sound like a damsel in distress instead of a woman who went undercover to save her man and stole a system capable of setting off World War III.
After Suds glances at the time on his phone, he speaks so fast I can hardly comprehend. “Anyhoo, missing a GPS signal, the pilots could not prove whose airspace they were in, Belarus or Lithuania. Not wanting to cause an international incident, they took off.”
“And the emergency landing?” Director Quinn must hear someone chuckle because he sounds pissed.
“Hell, sir. I’m gettin’ there. Hold your horses. So, where was I? Ah yes, the enemy aircraft disappear, and as we’re about to land, ol’ Ledbetter, who we thought died back at the villa, drops from the damn ceiling. There’s a fight, his gun goes off and depressurizes the cabin. We almost crash, but Slate pulls up with seconds to spare. He trims some trees, which damaged our underbelly, and yet manages to touch down light as a baby goose down feather. You get yourself one of the Fed’s most wanted men and, as a bonus, a super-secret GPS spoofing app. Now, there are some more details, which I would be willin’ to recite, but these fellas told me I had to be succinct.”
He turns to the giant Australian. “How’d I do?”
“Made it, mate.” Lucky shows the time, twenty-dollar bills pass hands, and some guys curse, while others cheer.
My husband, seeing my confusion, explains. “They didn’t think he could do it in less than fifteen minutes.”
“He did leave out a lot of details.” When I chuckle, h e shoots an index finger to my mouth.
“Please say nothing. According to my sources, if he’s asked to say more, we could be sitting here all night and well into tomorrow.”