Page 47 of Be Courageous

“Wait!” Len blurted the word before he’d decided what to say. “How do I know you haven’t made a copy of the book already, or that you won’t expose me later?”

“Gee, I hadn’t thought of that.” Sarcasm dripped off Monty’s words. “I guess you don’t know, but my priority is my wife’s happiness. Yours is your career. Return Ruby Bonheur at the funeral on Sunday, in pristine condition, and I’ll let you finish your term as lieutenant governor. I won’t finger you as Stasky’s killer, provided you decline your candidacy for vice president.”

Len could smell his political ambitions starting to smoke. “You can’t pin Stasky’s murder on me. I had nothing to do with it!” His voice climbed a full octave.

“Best to be on the safe side, Len. Come to Stasky’s funeral. I’ll give you the manuscript, and you’ll release Ruby Bonheur. Then I’ll leave you alone if you leave politics alone. You have my number,” the man noted. “Call me if you wish to accept my offer.”

Pride kept Len mute. He flinched as the phone clicked in his ear, signaling an end to the call. On autopilot, Len lowered his arm until the receiver clattered into the cradle.

Fury burned in him. He ejected from his chair and stalked toward the window. The gray, inhospitable sky spewed sleet down on the city of Harrisburg.What do I do?

His popularity might survive the rumor that he’d shot a child and his mother out of sheer frustration. Certainly, he wouldn’t go to jail for that as he’d had license to kill whomever back in those days. But he didn’t doubt for a second Monty would find a way to ruin him if he stayed in politics.

Resentment made Len’s face burn. He’d worked too hard to get where he was just to give it up now. But neither did he wish to be constantly looking over his shoulder, dreading the appearance of three wrathful Navy SEALs. That left him with two choices: either he quit politics for good, or he only pretended to, while eliminating the obstacles in his way. It would cost him quite a bit of money to have all three SEALs killed.

Len ground his molars together, thinking. First, he would withdraw his name as a potential candidate. Then, he would double down on a couple of business ventures that had come his way and make enough money to pay off a mercenary like Yordan to pick off the remaining SEALs, first Monty, then Ben Harmony. Saul Wade, once America’s top sniper would be the last and the hardest to kill. It might take a few years before Len could return to politics, but he’d be back.

And the journalist? Not long after he surrendered her in exchange for Stasky’s book, she would be the first to die.

Len rubbed his palms together, mollified, before spinning toward his desk to stab the intercom button. “Michelle, get the last caller back on the phone with me, will you?”

“Of course. Just a minute, sir.”

Brutally efficient, she got back to him in half that time. “Sir, I have Commander Monteague on line one for you.”

Len hit line one, and with a smirk in his voice, said, “I’ll see you at the funeral.”

He slammed the phone into the receiver, then opened his desk drawer and withdrew his cell phone, putting a call through to his assistant.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’ve changed my mind. Call Yordan and tell him not to harm the package. He’ll have his chance at her later. I need you to collect her from him tomorrow and keep her at the office for twenty-four hours. Nobody will be there on a weekend.”

“Me, sir? I don’t really want to?—”

“Shut up and listen. I’ll pick her up early Sunday morning. Just keep her tranquilized. Yordan will show you how.”

Len hung up on Cullum. He could care less whether his assistant felt squeamish about babysitting. Len had been far more inconvenienced than Collum. The jangling of his cell phone made him jump. Cullum was calling him back. “What?”

“Yordan wants to know if he’ll get paid the same.”

“Only if the package is unharmed.”

He hung up on Cullum a second time, then hurled his cell phone across the room. By luck, it landed on an armchair, then bounced harmlessly onto the Turkish carpet.

If only he’d restrained himself back in Dishu when his temper got the better of him. Then none of this would be happening. He couldn’t let them destroy everything he’d worked for. He wouldn’t.

In a couple of years, he’d be back in politics. Who knew? Once the SEALs and the journalist were out of the picture, he might even run for president.

* * *

The sound of a rough male voice roused Ruby from a drug-induced sleep. Exerting every ounce of strength at her disposal, she managed to slit her heavy eyelids and glimpsed the salt-and-pepper head of her abductor in the driver’s seat before her eyes slammed shut.

The man had been holding a cell phone to his ear. She could hear him speaking in a strong Eastern European accent. “He needs to pay me the same, regardless.”

Pay me. Oh, help.He was discussing his fee for killing her!Regardless.Regardless of what?

A whimper escaped Ruby’s unresponsive lips, and the car wobbled. Managing to peek through her lashes again, she saw the driver angle his rearview mirror to look back at her, and she snapped her eyes shut, playing possum.

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