Page 55 of Poison Evidence

He turned to his boss and his ultimate employer and shifted to covert operative mode. He had a mortgage and a reason to live now. These men were important to the goal of meeting the first obligation and enjoying the second.

Cressida had coached him on how to greet guests. In his old life, he’d never had guests—at least, not in his real home. “Cream or sugar?” he asked.

“No coffee for me,” Alec said.

Keith took his coffee black. Ian poured himself a mug and settled at the kitchen table with his boss and his employer.

They each sat on the edge of their chairs, bodies pitched forward. Ready to spring into action and easier to converse in low voices.

“What’s going on with Ivy?” Ian asked.

“This is a side job I’m offering you,” Alec said. “Not a Raptor mission. Paid for from my personal bank account.”

To the best of Ian’s knowledge, Rav was a straight arrow. He’d backed out of Raptor as the law required and left management in Keith’s hands without batting an eye. Legal and ethical to a T. Ian couldn’t help but cock his head toward the man who funded his newfound homeownership and happiness and ask the direct question. “Why?”

“Because itispersonal. And this has nothing to do with government contracts. I ran it by Curt. He thinks I’m legally clear, and even if I’m not, I’m finding it hard to give a fuck. An assassin abducted my cousin. I want Ivy home.”

Years of training to control body language couldn’t compete with Rav’s revelation. Ian’s spine shot to the upright position. “Parker Reeves is anassassin?”

“Russian enforcer. Known as the Hammer. Heard of him?”

Acid flooded Ian’s stomach. “Shit. The ball-peen guy?”

Keith shot him a look.

Ian ran a hand over his face, stopping himself from sharing gruesome details he’d learned when he’d been working a Russian informant years ago. He cleared his throat and grunted. “Yeah. I know of him.”

Rav’s nostrils flared, giving Ian the impression his employer had already heard the rumors and more. “This is a private job,” he repeated. “You can say no. But if you say yes, you’ll be well paid. I’m renting a jet from Raptor.” He smiled at the notion of renting a jet from himself. “It’ll be ready to roll in two hours. First stop is Washington State to pick up Luke Sevick.”

“Why me?” Ian couldn’t help but ask. Sevick was the one who knew Reeves. Ian was primarily acting as an analyst and interpreter these days, giving Keith his informed opinion on how to run ops in the Middle East, in addition to providing tradecraft training at the Virginia compound.

“First, because we need someone who speaks Russian and Arabic—Hill’s people are involved,” Keith said. “And second because we figure the best way to catch a spy is with a spy.”

Ian agreed. But Parker Reeves wasn’t just a spy, he was the Hammer, which changed everything. As an ally, he’d be an ace in the hole. But as an enemy? To the best of his knowledge, no one had ever faced the Hammer and lived to tell the tale.

When it came to bringing the assassin in, all bets were off.

“Sevick’s on board with this?” he asked.

Keith nodded. “Luke is the one who called me with a plan to bring Reeves in.”

Chapter Nineteen

“When I isolate this layer”—Ivy keyed in the command, and the other map layers disappeared from the display—“you can see the mangrove swamp that edges the island, but nothing else. Perfect for calculating the disappearing habitat and monitoring the effects of global warming, but there are other applications as well.”

Dimitri smiled. She was lit from within after hours at the computer, completely engrossed in her work. It was clear that for her, the images on the screen were as alive as if she were astral projecting herself into the swamp that edged an island two miles away.

He was utterly fascinated with how she brought such passion to what was for most a cold, data-derived universe.

How bizarre to be so utterly captivated by a person just days before what was sure to be his end. Was this love? He couldn’t rule it out, and could only assume that if it was, maybe he was open to the emotion now, knowing his time was limited, where he’d been closed off before.

“Have you killed people?”Her question had left him cold, but it was his cop-out answer that filled him with shame.

“Spy and assassin aren’t the same thing.”

No. They weren’t. Yet he was both.

Would Ivy take comfort knowing all his victims had been Bratva? Mafiosi who trafficked in guns, drugs, and people? He was an old-school enforcer. The Hammer. His boss just happened to be his government.

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