Page 2 of Scarlet Angel

“How’s Lina going to take the news?” I slant an inquisitive eye Ash’s way. Why’s he asking? “Was she close to the girl?”

“Hadn’t known her long.” Lina isn’t one to get close to friends. She keeps them at arm’s length. She’s rational like that, all thanks to being raised by a stone-hearted scoundrel,me. With an exhale, I pass the phone back to Ash.

I’ll miss the Texan. The man worked close to me for over five years. Ah, Leo Sullivan. A mole in my midst, yet I still hold he’s a good one. Talk about being good at the job.

“We’ve got Andrew from Scotland Yard reporting back. With the storm, they’re swamped at the moment. Search and rescue called off. Locating the wreck not a priority.”

I step up to the window, running through logistics. “If a story develops that may need a burial…”

I let the sentence fall behind the howl of wind. Ash knows the drill.

“When you get confirmation on your end, will you let me know?”

I narrow my eyes at the head of my security. “Getting soft?”

“I liked them, ya know. She seemed nice. Leo…good guy.”

Yeah, he was. Turncoat and all.

“You didn’t tell Cohen about the second part of the plan?” This is an important piece. If anyone has any idea that Leo Sullivan is still alive, he won’t be safe. He violated a code. I’m all right with letting him slink into the night, but others we work with won’t agree with my leniency.

Ash’s right eye twitches at a rhythmic pace. It’s a side effect of a head injury when serving with the SAS.

“Of course not.” He sounds both pissed and aghast at the notion.

“These days, I’ve got to question everyone.”

He gives a quick nod of understanding. “Cohen might question why the car drove off the bridge, given he didn’t ram it off, but he gave no sign he’s harboring suspicions. If anything, he might be wondering if his bullet caught the driver.”

The instructions had been to shoot to corral, not shoot to kill. We had a number of routes planned. Cohen believed he acted as a herding dog, but he also believed that after the confrontation, he’d need to dispose of the leak.

A risky fucking plan. But the message I received from an unknown number forced my hand.

The American isn’t who you think he is.

When confronted, Leo confirmed.

The question remains, who sent that message? Who else knows?

With Leo presumed dead, does it matter?

Cohen believes he’s dead. But he’s not likely to talk about it—would be bad for his business. So is asking for money after the deal.

“How much of a fee are we talking about?”

“Cohen?”

I scowl, losing patience.What the fuck else would I be going on about?

“Extra hundred.”

“One hundred thousand pounds?”

“He’s never been cheap,” Ash says, looking about like he’d like to take a seat.

“Greedy wanker. Unacceptable.” I drop into my desk chair, the spot where I get my best thinking done. “Take care of him. And keep an ear on the accident. We need word to filter.”

“Our guys? You want them talking about it?”

---